IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  Notes  /  Notes  techniques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Physical 
features  of  this  copy  which  may  alter  any  of  the 
images  in  the  reproduction  are  checked  below. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couvertures  de  couleur 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Certains 
difauts  susceptibles  de  nuire  d  la  qualitd  de  la 
reproduction  sont  notfo  ci-dessous. 


D 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


D 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 


n 


Coloured  plates/ 
Planches  en  couleur 


D 
D 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es.  tachet6es  ou  piquies 


Tight  binding  (may  cause  shadows  or 
distortion  along  interior  margin)/ 
Reliure  serr6  (peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou 
de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int6rieure) 


D 


D 


Show  through/ 
Transparence 


Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


ii 
u 
b 
f( 


D 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires 


Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  bibliographiques 


D 
D 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


D 
D 


Pagination  incorrect/ 
Erreurs  de  pagination 


Pages  missing/ 
Des  pages  manquent 


D 


Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


D 


Maps  missing/ 

Des  cartes  gdographiques  manquent 


□ 


Plates  missing/ 

Des  planches  manquent 


D 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Las  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  I'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche  shall 
contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  CONTINUED"), 
or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"),  whichever 
applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaTtra  sur  la  der- 
nidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le  cas: 
ie  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le  symbols 
V  slgnlfle  "FIN". 


The  original  copy  was  borrowed  from,  and 
filmed  with,  the  kind  consent  of  the  following 
institution: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grAce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de  I'dtablissement  prdteur 
suivant  : 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


Maps  or  plates  too  large  to  be  entirely  included 
in  one  exposure  are  filmed  beginning  in  the 
upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to  right  and  top  to 
bottom,  as  many  frames  as  required.  The 
following  diagrams  illustrate  the  method: 


Les  cartes  ou  les  planches  trop  grandes  pour  dtre 
reproduites  en  un  seul  cliche  sont  filmdes  d 
partir  de  I'angle  sup6rieure  gauche,  de  gauche  d 
droite  et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Le  diagramme  suivant 
illustre  la  m6thode  : 


1' : 

2 

9 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

CO 


tD 


^ 


•' 


t' 


t 


THE 


"B.    O.    W.    C. 


99 


A  BOOK  FOR  BOYS. 


itf 
u 


BY  THE 


AUTHOR   OF  "THE    DODGE    CLUB,"  &0 


ILLU8  TBATED. 


If 


BOSTON 
LEE   AND    SHEPARD    PUBLISHERS 


w 


>'.'-Ht,^ 


v3 


EnUNd,  ■eeording  t9  Act  of  Congnm,  in  the  year  1809,  by 

LEE    AND    SUEPARD, 

In  the  Clerk'*  Office  of  the  Dirtrict  Court  of  the  Divtrict  of  MaMuhuiettik 


< 


THIS   BOOK   IS   DEDICATED 


TO 


WILLIE, 


?,r| 


! 


If 


CONTENTS. 


I. 


PAOB 


The  "  B.  0.  W.  C."  with  their  History,  Mystery,  and  Won- 
derful Doings;  and  how  an  aged  African  became  elevat- 
ed to  the  Dignity  of  "  Grand  Panjandrum."  .        .     11 

II. 

Grand  Pre  and  Minas  Basin.  —  An  astonishing  Proces- 
sion. —  Encampment  of  Brigands.  —  Break-up  of  En- 
campment, and  Flight  of  the  Inmates 28 


III. 

Another  extraordinary  Procession.  —  An  eccentric  Crew.  — 
A  flighty  Skipper.  —  Wonderful  Attachment  of  Captain 
Corbet  to  his  Offspring.  —  Stealing  a  Stone  Fence,  and 
raising  the  Black  Flag. 


41 


IV. 

Blomidon.  —  Tides  and  Fogs.  —  Songs  and  Seasickness.  — 
The  Five  Islands,  and  a  Race  up  a  Precipice. 


5G 


V. 

Exploring  a  desert   Island.  —  Tumbling  over  a   Cliff.  — 
Peril  of  Bruce.  —  A  mad  Row  over  the  Waves.  —  Adrift 

in  the  Fog 70 

7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


VI. 


Up  Anchor  and  after  them.  —  Blast  of  the  Fog- Horn.— A 
long  Search  amid  Mists,  and  Darkness,  and  Storms.     .     84 


h 


lit 


VII. 

Lost  in  the  Fog.  —  At  the  Mercy  of  the  Tide.  —  The  last 
Rock.  —  Wanderings  on  a  lonely  Shore.  —  A  great  Dis- 
covery. —  A  new  Mode  of  Cooking.  .        •        •        .98 


VIII. 

Blue  Sky.  —  Building  a  House.  —  The  Signal  Staff, 
fatal  Disgust.  —  Mournful  Forebodings. 


—  A 


112 


IX. 

Exploring.  —  A  wild  Walk.  —  On  the  Lookout  for  Prey.  — 
What  is  it  f  —  Js  it  a  wild  Goose  ?  —  Tremendous  Sensa- 
tion, the  Explorers  being  as  much  astounded  as  Robinson 
Crusoe  was  when  he  discovered  the  human  Footprints  in 


the  Sand. 


125 


X. 

New  Attempts  at  Cookery.  —  Phil  on  the  Lookout.  —  A  Sail ! 
A  Sail !  —  The  Signal  of  the  red  Shirt.  —  The  Dome 


of  the  O'Raffertys. 


138 


XI. 


Pratfs  Cove.  —  A  Dinner  Party.  —  The  faithless  Cook  and 
Steward.  —  Songs.  —  Sudden  and  startling  Interrvp- 
tion.  —  Stealing  a  Wood-pile.  —  Overwhelming  Piece  of 


Intelligence. 


151 


CONTENTS. 


XII. 


9 


On  the  Track  again.  —  Fishing  for  a  Duck.  —  Asking  for 
Bready  and  getting  Stones.  —  Pat  shines  as  Cook.  .  163 


XIII. 

jldrift.  —  Skilful  Navigators.  —  Breakers  ahead, 
row  Scratch.   -  Stuck  in  the  Mud.    . 


—  A  nar- 


.  176 


XIV. 

In  Mud  and  Water.  —  A  Sea  Monster.  —  A  terrific  Fight. 
—  Wonderful  Pluck  of  the  "  £.  0.  W.  C."  —  Swallow- 
ing a  Sculpin.  —  The  Trophy.  —  Waiting  for  Deliver- 


ance. 


189 


XV. 


Scratching  for  Clams.  —  How  not  to  eat  them..  —  Fearful 
Consequences  of  Folly.  —  A  formidable  Medicine  Chest. 
—  Prevention  better  than  Cure 202 

XVI. 

New  Hopes  and  Plans.  —  A  Sail !  —  A  hitter  Disappoint- 
ment. —  A  hazardous  Adventure,  and  a  Fright.  —  Quilts 
for  Togas.  —  Another  tremendous  Casualty.  .         .         .  221 

XVII. 

On  the  briny  Deep,  and  on  the  muddy  Shore.  —  The  Fish- 
erman's Boat.  —  Reappearance  of  old  Friends.  —  Re- 
monstrances, Explanations,  and  Confessions.  .        .  235 

XVIII. 

Wanderings  about  the  Beach.  —  Science  and  Sport.  —  Back 
Home.  —  Frightful  Tale  of  Poison.  —  A  Visit  to  the  Af- 
flicted  248 


to 


CONTENTS. 


XIX. 

Complaints  of  a  disappointed  Savant.  —  The  humble  C(A 
fession  of  Pat.  —  A  buried  Treasure,  and  a  great  Search 
after  it  by  Torchlight 256 

XX. 

How  lo  waken  a  Sleeper.  —  Off  Home.  —  A  weary  Way.  — 
Baffled  like  ihe  Flying  Dutchman.  —  Corbet  pines  for 
his  Babby.  —  ''The  Wind  at  last !     Hurrah  !"      .        .  268 

XXI. 

Blomidon,  insulted,  avenges  himself.  —  A  Victim  devotes 
himself  to  appease  his  Wrath.  —  Original  Views  of  Cap- 
tain Corbet  with  regard  to  the  Archceology  and  the  Sci- 
ence of  Navigation. 278 

XXII. 

Being  jolly  under  creditable  Circumstances.  —  Songs.  — 
Medleys,  —  Choruses. —  Cheers.  —  Laughter. —  Speeches. 

—  Responses.  —  The  Mud  again.  —  Hard  and  fast.  — 
What'll  you  do  now,  my  Boy  f 290 

XXIII. 

4  wild  Undertaking.  —  A  Race  for  Life.  —  The  lost  Boot. 

—  The  Quicksands.  —  The  Isle  of  Safety.—  The  Mud 
Gulch.  —  Crossing  the  Abyss  of  Mud.  —  Bruce's  Dol- 
drum.  — '  Two  forlorn  Figures.  —  Rapturous  Welcome.  — 
Speech  by  the  Grand  Panjandrum.         ....  303 


-_.a' 


BBI 


THE  "B.  0.  W.  C." 


y»io 


I. 


The  "  B.  0.  W.  C,"  with  their  History,  Mystery, 
and  Wonderful  Doings ;  and  how  an  aged  Afri- 
can became  elevated  to  the  Dignity  of  "  Grand 
Panjandrum  J' ^ 


•FTER  the  long  winter  session,  the  approach 
of  the  spring  vacation  had  been  eagerly- 
welcomed  at  the  Grand  Pr^  School.  It  was 
only  a  short  recess,  and  the  majority  of  the  boys 
would  not  be  able  to  go  home  ;  but  such  as  it  was, 
its  advent  created  the  greatest  delight.  On  a 
pleasant  evening  in  May  the  examinations  were 
over ;  little  knots  of  boys  were  gathered  jubilantly 
in  various  places,  bonfires  were  blazing,  squibs 
fizzing,  crackers  snapping,  and  everything  and 
everybody  were  as  noisy  and  as  jolly  as  possible. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this,  and  immediately  after 
tea,  the  "  B.  0  W.  C."  had  called  a  meeting  in  the 


12 


THE   B.    0.   \V.    C. 


■lij 


Rawdons'  rooms.  Who  or  what  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C." 
is,  or  was,  will  be  explainec'  on  a  future  occasion  ; 
let  it  suffice  for  the  present  that  the  ''  B.  0.  W.  C." 
galled  a  meeting,  and  the  Rawdons'  rooms  had  the 
honor  of  receiving  that  august  assemblage.  Not 
that  it  was  very  numerous.  Only  four  or  five 
could  be  counted ;  but  then  what  they  lacked  in 
number,  they  made  up  in  quality  and  in  style. 
The  utmost  had  been  done  to  bring  the  rooms  up 
to  the  level  of  so  great  an  occasion.  The  table 
had  been  turned  upside  down,  and  transformed 
into  a  dais ;  the  book-case  had  been  covered  over 
with  the  table-cloth ;  the  couch  had  been  placed  on 
one  end  in  the  corner;  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  was  a  flour  barrel  covered  with  red  flannel, 
on  which  was  placed  a  phrenological  bust.  Added 
to  this,  the  room  was  darkened  —  a  smoky  lamp 
shedding  a  feeble  and  fitful  ray  over  the  scene, 
and  dimly  disclosing  four  figures  at  one  end. 

Tlieso  four  figure  were  all  dressed  in  white. 
The  costume  was  a  simple,  but  a  highly  effective 
one.  It  consisted  apparently  of  a  sheet  thrown 
over  the  head  and  falling  to  the  feet,  with  two 
holes  for  the  eyes.  In  this  attire  the  four  figures 
bore  not  a  little  resemblance  to  some  of  those 
orders  of  monks  which  exist  in  Europe.  The 
table,  which  lay  on  the  floor,  legs  upward,  with  the 
addition  of  the  ottoman,  served  as  a  dais,  on  which 
stood  a  figure  with  an  immense  militia  captain's 
Bword  in  his  hand.     On  each  sid'>  was  also  a  figure 


!i 


THE   GRAND   PANJANDRUM. 


13 


1 


holding  a  huge  wooden  battle-axe,  while  the  fourth 
stood  between  the  dais  and  tlie  bust. 

Soon  the  silence  was  disturbed  by  a  knock  at 
the  door  communicating  with  the  bed-room.  The 
boy  near  the  bust  gave  it  tliree  smart  raps,  upon 
which  tlie  door  opened,  and  a  figure  entered 
clothed  like  the  others  in  the  room.  On  entering 
he  made  a  low  bow,  and  then  stood  erect. 

The  four  figures  in  the  room  raised  their  hands 
to  their  faces  with  a  peculiar  gesture. 

"  Blood  !  "  said  they  in  solemn  tones. 

"  Thunder ! "  said  the  boy  at  the  door,  making 
the  same  gesture. 

"  Is  the  Grand  Panjandrum  with  you,  Venerable 
Warden?"  said  the  figure  on  the  dais. 

"  He  is.  Most  Venerable  Patriarch." 

"  Let  him  enter." 

At  this  the  Venerable  Warden  left  the  room,  and 
in  a  few  moments  reappeared,  ushering  in  the 
personage  alluded  to  as  the  Grand  Panjandrum. 

The  Grand  Panjandrum  was  an  aged  gentleman 
of  color,  whose  wrinkled  face  was  enlivened  by  an 
irrepressible  comicality  of  expression,  which  not 
even  the  solemnity  of  this  occasion  could  quell. 
He  was  arrayed  in  a  college  cap  and  gown,  with 
a  Master's  red  hood  and  long  bands.  His  face  was 
a  study.  He  was  evidently  doing  his  best  to  ex- 
hibit the  deepest  solemnity  of  expression,  but  his 
droll,  keen,  twinkling  eyes  darted  furtively  about, 
with  an  intense  relish  of  the  scene  before  him,  and 


u 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


his  efforts  at  gravity  were  sadly  disturbed  by  the 
broad  grin  which,  from  time  to  time,  would  flash 
out  irrepressibly  over  the  dark  background  of  his 
face.  After  a  few  furtive  glances  he  bowed ;  and 
then,  with  an  audible  chuckle,  he  awaited  further 
proceedings. 

"  Grand  Panjandrum,"  said  the  figure  on  the 
dais,  in  an  impressive  voice. 

"  Yes,  sah." 

"Yes,  what?"  said  the  other,  in  a  tone  of  re- 
buke. 

"Yes,  sah,^ — yes,  mos' wossifle,"  he  added,  cor- 
recting himself.  A  grin  broke  out  over  his  face, 
which,  however,  was  instantly  checked  by  a  demure 
cough. 

"  Grand  Panjandrum,  you  have  heard  our  man- 
dates." 

"  Mandates  ?  "  said  the  other,  in  a  puzzled  tone. 

"  Yes,  —  orders." 

"  Yes,  sah,  mos'  wossifle." 

"  Have  you  carried  out  the  instructions  of  the 
Venerable  Brethren  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sab,  mos'  wospeful." 

"  Did  you  get  the  turkeys  ?  '* 

"  Yes,  sah." 

"How  many?     Six?" 

"  No,  sah." 

"  What !  not  six  ?  " 

"  No,  sah." 

"  How  many,  then  ?  " 


WHAT   TO    EAT. 


16 


^'  Ten,"  said  the  other,  with  a  chuckle  and  a  grin 
of  triumph. 

"  0-h  !  '•  said  the  first  speaker ;  while  a  titter 
ran  round  among  the  others.  "  H'm !  Very  well, 
and  what  else  ?  " 

"  Spring  chickens." 

'*  How  many  ?  " 

"  Twenty." 

"  Ah  !     Very  well.     And  how  ?  " 

''  Broiled,  sah." 

"  Any  tongue  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,  three." 

"  And  the  ham  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah." 

"  Nuts  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah." 

*•  Raisins  ?  " 

''  Yes,  sah." 

"  Crackers  ?     Cheese  ?     Figs  ?     Cake  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,  mos'  wossifle." 

"  And  what  about  the  drink  ?  Have  you  pre- 
pared the  lemonade  ?  " 

"  No,  sah." 

"No!     Why  not?" 

"  No  lemons,  sah." 

"  That's  bad.     And  there  is  no  drink,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah.     Ginger  beer." 

"  Ginger  beer.  H'm  I  that  will  do,"  said  the 
Venerable  Patriarch,  solemnly.  "  How  much  have 
you  ?  " 


16 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


I 


"  Ten  gallons,  mos'  wossifle." 

"■  Wiiat  else  have  you  ?  " 

"  Ten  mince  pies,  twelve  apple  pies,  a  basket 
of  tarts,  a  tin  dipper,  an  iron  pot,  an  iron  spoon," 
said  the  Grand  Panjandrum,  rapidly  enumerating 
the  various  items.  '^  Fact,"  he  continued,  carried 
away  by  the  ardor  of  the  moment,  "  I'se  got  most 
nigh  eberyting.  Gracious  sakes  !  you'll  open 
your  blessed  eyes,  mind  1  tell  you  !  But  what  are 
you  gwine  to  do  about  do  bread  and  butter  ?  Tell 
you  what,  boys  !  youVe  clean  ibrgot  de  most 
'portant  of  all." 

"  Silence  !  "  cried  the  Venerable  Patriarch,  in 
an  indignant  voice,  rapping  his  sword  against  the 
leg  of  the  table. 

^'  The  sakes  now  !  how  you  do  go  or  '. "  said  the 
Grand  Panjanc.xum,  with  a  broad  grin. 

"  No  levity,"  said  the  Venerable  Patriarch,  in  a 
stern  voice. 

"  Yes,  sah,"  said  the  other,  assuming  an  expres- 
sion of  awful  solemnity. 

"  Venerable  Warden  !  " 

"  Yes,  Most  Venerable  Patriarch." 

"  The  audience  is  over.  Escort  the  Grand  Pan- 
jandrum to  the  outer  world." 

The  Venerable  Warden  bowed,  and  led  the  way 
out,  followed  by  his  sable  companion. 

Scarcely  had  the  door  closed  behind  them  than 
the  scene  underwent  a  sudden  change.  With  a 
shout,  the  four  figures  flung  off  their  white  drape- 


mg 


THE   FIVE   BOYS. 


17 


ries,  and  kicked  them  into  a  corner  of  the  room. 
Then  they  drew  back  the  curtains,  replaced  the 
table  and  couch,  while  the  li^ht  that  now  came 
into  the  room  showed  the  lauji;hinjj^  faces  of  four 
boys,  which  had  nothing  in  common  with  the 
sepulchral  figures  that  had  taken  part  in  the  late 
scene. 

Two  of  these  boys  were  big,  brawny,  broad- 
shouldered  fellows,  with  Roman  features,  and  dark, 
curling  hair.  They  very  closely  resembled  one 
another.  These  were  the  two  Rawdons,  to  whom 
the  rooms  bek)nged.  The  elder  was  named  Bruce, 
and  the  younger  Arthur.  Of  the  others,  one  was 
tall  and  slight,  Tom  Crawford  by  name  ;  and  the 
other  was  small  and  slight,  and  was  called  Phil 
Kennedy. 

"  Hurrah,  boys  !  "  said  Phil.  "  Isn't  old  Solomon 
a  perfect  brick  of  an  old  darkey  ?  Do  you  fairly 
realize  the  fact  that  we  are  to  have  ten  turkeys,  — 
ten,  my  boys,  instead  of  six  ?  " 

"  And  the  spring  chickens  !  "  said  Tom  Craw- 
ford. 

"  And  the  mince  pies  !  "  said  Bruce. 

"  And  the  ginger  beer  !  "  cried  Arthur. 

"  The  encampment  of  the  ^  B.  0.  W.  C  is  going 
to  be  a  grand  success,"  said  Bruce.  "  It  will  be 
memorable  forever  in  the  history  of  the  school." 

"  We  ought  to  have  a  grand  bonfire,  and  burn 
our  Latin  Grammars,  before  starting,"  said  Tom 
Crtiwford. 


1 


18 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


"  Yes,"  said  Phil  Kennedy,  "  and  our  Arithmetics 
too.  I'd  like  to  burn  all  the  Arithmetics  in  the 
world." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Arthur,  "  don't  let  us  have  a  bon- 
fire. Let  us  have  a  burial,  with  a  solemn  pro- 
cession, and  a  real  burial  service." 

"Well,  what'll  we  bury?" 

"  The  Latin  Grammar." 

"  No,  Caesar." 

"  No,  the  Arithmetic." 

"  Let's  bury  them  all ;  that  is  the  best  plan," 
said  Phil. 

"  Yes,"  cried  all ;  and  a  confused  medley  of  pro- 
posals arose,  in  which  all  were  talking  together. 
In  the  midst  of  the  uproar  the  door  opened,  and 
the  Venerable  Warden  made  his  appearance. 
Throwing  off  his  white  robe,  ^'e  disclosed  the  fair, 
round  face  of  a  fresh,  handsome  boy,  with  merry, 
mischievous  eyes,  and  curling  golden  hair.  That 
busy  brain  of  his  had  been  prolific  in  all  sorts  of 
plans  dear  to  boys,  while  his  generous  nature  and 
frank,  pleasant  manner  made  Bart  Damer  the 
favorite  of  Grand  Pr6  School. 

"  O,  Bart,"  said  Tom  Crawford,  "  what  about  that 
powder  ?  " 

Bart  left  the  room  for  a  moment,  and  returned 
with  a  package  under  his  arm. 

"  The  powder  ?  "  said  he.  "  It's  all  right.  I've 
got  it  in  my  room." 

"  And  the  rods  ?  " 


Bu. 


PREP    RATIONS. 


19 


•ithmetics 
cs  in  the 

ve  a  bon- 
emn  pro- 


Jt  plan," 

y  of  pro- 
:'Ogether. 
ned,  and 
earance. 
the  fair, 
I  merry, 
^  That 
sorts  of 
ure  and 
Qer  the 

out  that 

eturned 

fc.    I've 


"  Yea,  I've  got  the  rods  too." 

"  Any  maiches  ?  " 

''  Matclios  ?     Of  course  not." 

"  Why,  wliat'll  we  do  for  lights  and  fires  ?  " 

"  I  hope  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  would 
dream  of  taking  matches,"  said  Bart,  in  a  voice  of 
solenni  rebuke. 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  Who  ever  heard  of  matches  in  an 
Encampment  of  Knights  ?  No,  boys,  flint  and  steel 
is  the  thing  for  us.  Tliat's  what  I've  get;  and  I've 
made  some  first-rate  tinder,  and  a  lot  of  sulphur 
lights.  Besides,  I've  got  something  to  surprise 
you." 

"What's  that?" 

"  The  dresses." 

''  Dresses  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  come  to  my  room,  and  I'll  show  you  what 
I've  got.  It  wouldn't  do  for  us  to  go  out  and  be 
brigands  in  ordinary  jackets  and  trousers,  I  hope. 
Why,"  he  concluded,  in  a  tone  of  rebuke,  "it 
would  be  infamous." 

"  And  have  you  got  any  dresses  in  your  room  ?  " 
said  Bruce. 

"  Yes ;  come  along  and  take  a  look  at  them." 

Off  went  the  five  with  a  shout,  and  going  up  a 
flight  of  stairs,  they  soon  entered  Bart  Darner's 
room.  Here  Bart  brought  out  a  bundle  from  the 
bed-room,  and  opening  it,  he  proudly  displayed  its 
contents.      There  were  five    red   shirts,  each  of 


20 


THE  B.    O.   W.    C. 


I: 


wliich  had  a  huge  white  cross  on  the  back ;  five 
belts  ;  and  five  felt  hats,  each  of  which  was 
decorated  with  a  feather.  As  he  displayed  these 
articles  one  by  one,  the  boys  were  struck  dumb 
with  admiration,  while  Bart's  eyes  glowed  with 
delight. 

"■  Don't  say  anything,"  said  he,  "  but  try  them 
on." 

Bart  locked  the  door  carefully,  and  then  they 
all  arrayed  themselves  in  the  new  costume.  Soon 
five  figures  stood  there  with  their  red  shirts  and 
plumed  hats,  looking  like  so  many  juvenile  Gari- 
baldians. 

'•  You  see,  these  belts  will  do  first  rate  for  pistols, 
and  daggers,  and  that  sort  of  thing,"  said  Bart. 

The  other  boys  said  nothing.  Astonishment  and 
delight  deprived  them  of  words ;  but  each  stood 
looking,  first  at  himself,  and  then  at  his  compan- 
ions, in  mute  admiration. 

"  But  how  in  the  world  did  you  manage  it, 
Bart  ?  Where  did  you  get  them  all  ?  "  asked  Tom 
Crawford. 

"  O,  I  found  the  shirts  down  in  Brown's,"  said 
Bart,  "  and  picked  out  the  smallest  ones.  I  had 
them  altered,  and  got  Maggie  Lunt  to  sew  on  the 
crosses.  I  begged  some  old  ostrich  feathers  from 
Mrs.  Porter,  and  of  course  the  hats  could  be  got 
anywhere.  They're  rather  large,  but  we  can  put 
bits  of  paper  inside  the  lining,  you  know,  and  make 
them  fit  well  enouu-ii.     They'll  do  for  tlie  woods." 


i 


^F 


THE   BLACK    FLAG. 


21 


I  "  Do  for  the  woods  !  "  cried  Bruce  Rawdon.     "  1 

1        should  think  they  wouhl,  and  for  other  places,  too. 
f        Boys,  don't  let's  hide  our  li^ht  under  a  bushel.     I 
I        move  that  we  have  a  j^rand  procession  at  once." 
I  "  Yes,  yes,"  cried  all.      "  Let's   go  down  now. 

J        The  follows  are  all  out  on  the  grounds." 
I  "  How  they'll  stare  !  "  cried  Phil. 

I  ''  The  '  B.  0.  W.  C  will  become  more  famous 

I       than  ever,"  said  Tom  CraAvford. 
I  "  Come,  then,"  said  Arthur,  ''  let   us   go  down 

i|       now." 

I  "  No,"  said  Bart.     "  That  would  spoil  all." 

I  ''  Why,  don't  you  want  the  '  B.  0.  W.  C  to  show 

%       themselves  ?  " 

I  "  Of  course,  but  not  now.     I'll  tell  you  what  to 

J  do.  Let's  wait  till  to-morrow,  and  then  we'll  get 
;|  Jiggins's  cart,  and  make  Solomon  drive,  dressed  as 
Sv       Venerable  Warden,  up  to  the  woods.     We'll  follow 

as  brigands." 
I  "  Hurrah  !     That's  splendid  !  "  said  Bruce  Raw- 

5       don. 

I  "  And  I'll  show  you  something  else,"  said  Bart, 

I  taking  up  the  parcel  which  he  had  under  his  arm 
in  the  Rawdons'  room.  '<  I've  got  something  else." 
':■  And  he  proceeded  to  open  the  parcel,  while  the 
^  others  looked  on  with  eager  expectation.  He 
opened  it,  and  drew  out  a  folded  cloth.  Unfolding 
this,  he  shook  it  out,  and  spread  it  on  the  table. 
It  was  a  black  flag.  Upon  this  was  stitched  some- 
thing round,  which  close  examination  showed  to  bo 


22 


THK    B.    0.    W.    C. 


r   ( 


a  desperato  cfTort  to  represent  a  skull.  To  the 
ordinary  observer,  liowever,  it  lookecl  exactly  like 
an  elderly  gentleman's  face,  ([uite  bald,  and  witli  a 
benevolent  grin.  IJeneatli  it  were  the  mysterious 
initials  ''  B.  0.  W.  C."  At  siglit  of  this,  the  long- 
repressed  feelings  of  the  boys  bur  t  forth  witiiout 
restraint.  With  wild  shouts  they  waviul  their  hats 
in  the  air,  and  at  last  gave  three  cheers  for  Bail. 
It  w^as  long  before  their  M'ild  excitement  coidd  bo 
quelled.  Until  late  that  night  they  sat  in  their 
wonderful  dresses,  admiring  their  wonderful  flag, 
and  waiting,  with  eager  impatience,  Ibr  the  next 
day. 

But  who  or  what  was  the  ''  B.  0.  W.  C."  ?  That 
I  must  now  proceed  to  answer. 

The  "  B.  0.  W.  C."  arose  from  the  genius  of 
Bart  Damer,  who,  in  some  respects,  was  the  most 
remarkable  boy  at  Grand  I*r6  School.  His  career 
there  had  been  a  highly  eventful  one.  His  father 
was  a  merchant  of  the  town  of  St.  John,  and  Bart 
had  gathered,  from  the  atmosphere  of  his  native 
place,  a  passionate  desire  to  go  to  sea.  With  the 
idea  of  curing  him  of  this  fancy,  his  lather  had 
taken  him  to  Grand  Prd  School.  Bart  had  gone 
very  good  naturedly,  and  had  been  formally  entered 
as  a  scholar.  The  first  acquaintances  which  Bart 
made  were  the  Rawdon  boys  ;  and  on  the  very  first 
evening  after  his  arrival  he  confided  to  them  his 
determination  to  quit  the  school  immediately. 
This   determination   Bart   was   not  very  long   in 


■% 


BART    RUNS    AWAY. 


23 


That 


puttinc:  into  oxociition.  Two  davH  after  his^  fathor 
liad  left,  liart  was  aiiioiif;-  the  liiissiiiji!:.  Inquirios 
were  made  cvcrvwlicir,  but  in  vain.  At  length 
tlic  wortliy  licad  master,  Dr.  Porter,  conjectured 
tliat  lie  mi^lit  have  p)ne  home  ;  so  he  sent  in  tlio 
(hrection  in  wliich  lie  su|)i)()sed  it  most  likely  tiiat 
the  fujuitive  Avould  p).  The  conjecture  proved  to 
lie  well  founded.  I>art  was  found,  on  the  following 
day,  at  an  inn  about  forty  miles  away.  He  made 
no  objection  to  returninji;,  confessed  that  he  was  on 
his  way  home,  and  made  light  of  the  whole  atfair. 
Dr.  Porter  extorted  from  him  a  promise  that  he 
would  make  no  further  attempts  to  go  home,  and 
Bart  began  his  school  life. 

Plis  restless  disposition  soon  caused  a  new  inter- 
ru])tion.  At  the  end  of  three  weeks  it  was  found 
that  Bart  was  again  missing.  Dr.  Porter  was 
dee])ly  hurt,  for  he  feared  that  Bart  had  broken 
his  word.  Search  was  made  everywhere,  but  in 
vain.  A  week  passed  away,  but  no  discovery  had 
been  made.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  Old  Solomon, 
the  cook  of  the  boarding  school,  affected  perhaps 
by  Dr.  Porter's  deep  anxiety,  came  to  him  and 
disclosed  the  hiding-])lace  of  the  fugitive.  It  ap- 
peared that  Bart  had  struck  up  an  eternal  friend- 
ship witli  Solomon,  and  had  gained  his  assistance 
in  a  new  scheme  of  flight.  This  time  he  did  not 
seek  to  go  home,  for  he  had  promised  Dr.  Porter 
not  to  do  so.  His  plan  was  to  escape  to  the  woods, 
and  build  a  hut,  while  Solomon  was  to  bring  him 


24 


THE   B.    O.   W.    C. 


provision  and  news  from  tlic  outer  world.  Tho 
Kawdons  liud  )»(jL>n  tsikoii  into  tlie  secret,  and  IJart 
had  Iteeii  enjoyinj^'  the  lite  of  a  hermit,  and  thou^ht- 
lessly  annirtinjjj  himself  with  hafllin^  the  search  that 
was  ^oin^  on  for  him.  Dr.  ^\)rter  at  once  made 
Solomon  accompany  him  to  the  hiding-place :  and 
finding  Bart  there,  he  sent  Solomon  hack,  and  had 
a  long  conversation  with  the  youthful  hermit. 
What  ho  said  or  did  no  one  else  knew  ;  but  his 
mode  of  treatment  was  so  efliectual,  that  Bart  from 
that  time  forward  gave  up  his  wandering  ways.  A 
long  composition  was  allotted  him  as  a  punishment, 
and  Bart  bore  the  penalty  of  his  misdeeds  like  a 
man. 

After  this  he  diverted  his  active  powers  into  a 
more  legitimate  channel,  and  rapidly  became  one 
of  the  best  scholars  in  his  class.  His  restlessness 
of  temper  and  liveliness  of  disposition  showed  them- 
selves in  the  invention  of  new  games  and  sports  for 
the  amusement  of  his  companions.  He  became  a 
curious  compound  of  intense  earnestness  and  wild 
levity.  In  school  no  one  was  so  utterly  absorbed 
in  study  as  he  ;  and  outside,  on  the  play-ground,  no 
one  abandoned  himself  so  completely  to  fun  and 
merriment.  He  took  prizes  and  threw  balls  with 
equal  facility.  He  invented  new  modes  of  making 
balls,  of  shaping  bats,  and  of  fastening  skates.  He 
introduced  new  variations  in  the  venerable  game 
of  marbles.  He  made  beautifid  little  schooners. 
He  even  constructed  a  steamboat  out  of  an  old 


If! 


THE   MYSTERIOUS   CLUB. 


25 


clock.  'FTe  orj^iiiiizod  a  mil  itiiry  company,  including 
all  the  lioyn  in  tho  Hcliool,  with  lath  gniiH  and 
wooden  swords,  and  a  band  which  played  jew'a- 
liarps  and  tin  pails. 

But  the  greatest  of  all  his  achievements  was  the 
organization  of  the  ''  B.  O.  W.  C." 

Jt  arose  on  this  wise. 

From  the  very  outset  ho  had  formed  a  close  con- 
nection with  four  other  boys,  and  the  attachment 
to  one  another  grow  stronger  among  them  every 
day.  After  organizing  his  militia  company,  and 
adding  to  it  its  fiimous  "  Tin  Band,"  Bart  looked 
around  him  for  more  worlds  to  conquer ;  in  other 
words,  for  new  ideas  to  put  into  practice.  In  a 
moment  of  inspiration  ho  conceived  the  ])lan  of  a 
secret  society,  wliich  was  to  include  himself  and 
his  friends.  No  sooner  was  this  suggested  to  the 
others,  than  they  seized  upon  it  with  the  greatest 
eagerness.  The  name  was  the  first  thing.  At  first 
they  thought  of  calling  it  the  ''  Pentagon."  Then 
they  thought  of  the  ''  Quintette."  Other  names 
suggested  themselves;  but  finally  they  decided 
upon  the  ^'  B.  0.  W.  C."  The  use  of  letters  gave 
a  charming  mystery.  No  one  but  a  member  of  the 
society  could  ever  penetrate  the  tremendous  secret. 
But  the  time  has  at  length  come  for  divulging  it. 
It  shall  be  a  secret  no  longer.  Those  mysterious 
letters,  then,  were  intended  to  represent  "  The 
Brethren  of  the  Order  of  the  White  Cross. ^' 

As  to  the  rest,  the  most  charming  ingenuity  was 


ie 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


r.hown  in  arranging  the  dotails.     Tlio  officers  had 
names  of  solemn  import.     They  were, — 

1.  The  Most  Venerable  Patriarch. 

2.  The  Venerable  Scribe. 

3.  The  Bight  Wornhi^^ful  Commander. 

4.  The  Grand  Scholastic. 

5.  The  Venerable  Warden. 
Afterward  another  dignity  was  added. 

It  was  arranged  that  each  office  should  be  held 
only  for  one  month.  This  was  calculated  to  satisfy 
the  aspirations  of  all,  since  in  this  way  each  mem- 
ber had  a  chance  of  filling  every  office  in  due  time. 

The  initiation  ceremonies  Avere  tremendous ;  the 
only  trouble  about  these  being  tliat  they  never 
had  any  persons  on  whom  to  exercise  them.  They 
remained,  therefore  like  so  manv  beautiful  dreams. 
The  costdmes  have  already  been  described.  The 
most  important  thing  among  their  furniture  was 
the  phrenological  bust.  This  was  the  pride  and 
delight  of  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C."  It  had  been  obtained 
from  a  young  man  who  was  studying  medicine  in 
the  village,  and  who  levied  a  heavy  tax  upon  the 
purses  of  the  society  for  so  precious  an  article. 
They  had  the  bust,  however,  and  did  not  complain. 

I  have  said  that  another  dignity  was  added  to 
the  original  five.  This  was  in  the  person  of  the 
venerable  Solomon.  In  consideration  of  his  age, 
his  color,  his  occupation  as  cook,  and  his  eminent 
previous  services  to  all  of  them  individually,  it  was 
unanimously  resolved  that  he  should  be  admitted 


Tl» 


had 


SOLOMON   BECOMES    A   MEMBER. 


27 


■■■>• 

■  ■:•^ 


to  the  society.  With  very  j^reat  delicacy  they 
excused  him  tlie  terrific  initiation  ceremony.  Per- 
haps the  idea  that  he  miglit  object  to  some  of  the 
details  influenced  them  in  this.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
Old  Solomon  became  a  member,  and  a  new  dignity 
was  created  especially  for  him.  In  a  full  meeting 
of  the  society,  it  was  unanimously  voted  that  he  be 
created 

Perpetual  Grand  Panjandrum. 


was 


II 


28 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


II. 


Grand  Pre  and  Minos  Basin. — An  astonishing  Pro- 
cession. —  Encamiwiod  of  Brigands.  —  Break-up 
of  Encamiwient  and  Fligld  of  the  Inmates. 

HE  Grand  Pr(3  Academy,  under  the  presiding 
care  of  Dr.  Porter,  was  a  highly  popular  and 
very  efficient  boarding  school.  In  choosing 
such  a  i)lace  for  the  Academy,  Dr.  Porter  had  shown 
that  ardent  love  of  nature  which  always  distin- 
guished him.  It  was  situated  in  a  place  which 
yields  to  no  other  in  the  world  for  varied  charms  of 
land,  sea,  and  sky,  and  which  can  never  be  forgotten 
after  it  has  once  been  seen.  Standing  upon  the 
slope  of  a  hill,  the  Academy,  with  its  broad  portico 
and  lofty  cupola,  looked  down  upon  a  scene  whose 
loveliness  has  been  described  in  Longfellow's  ex- 
quisite verse :  — 

•'  In  the  Acadian  land,  on  tlie  sliorcs  of  the  Basin  of  Minas, 
Distant  secluded  still,  the  little  village  of  Grand  Pre 
Lay  in  the  fruitful  valley.      Vast  meadows  stretched  to  the 

eastward. 
Giving  the  village  its  name,  and   pasture  to  flocks  without 

numher. 
Dikes  that  the  hands  of  the  farmers  had  reared  with  labor 

incessant, 


;^r- 


THE   BASIN   OF  MINAS. 


29 


ex- 


Shut  out  the  turbulent  tides ;  but  at  stated  seasons  the  flood- 
gates 

Opened,  and  welcomed  the  sea  to  wander  at  will  o'er  the 
meadows. 

West  and  south  there  were  fields  of  flax,  and  orchards  and 
cornfields 

Spreading  afar  and  unfenced  o'er  the  plain ;  and  away  to  the 
northward 

Blomidon  rose,  and  the  forests  old ;  and  aloft  on  the  moun- 
tains 

Sea-fogs  pitched  their  tents,  and  mists  from  the  mighty 
Atlantic 

Looked  on  the  happy  valley,  but  ne'er  from  their  station  de- 
scended." 

Looking  from  the  portico  of  the  Academy,  the 
eye  rested  upon  a  broad  expanse  of  dike  land  im- 
mediately in  front,  which  extended  far  away  for 
many  miles  on  either  hand.  These  the  old  Acadian 
farmers  had  first  reclaimed  from  the  sea,  and  after- 
ward their  successors  had  reared  new  dikes  and 
reclaimed  wider  districts.  The  broad  meadows 
immediately  in  front  wore  bounded  by  the  Corn- 
wallis  River,  a  stream  which  at  high  tide  can  float 
the  largest  ship,  but  which  at  low  tide  is  so  nearly 
empty  that  but  a  slight  rivulet  runs  through  its 
channel.  It  runs  into  the  Basin  of  Minas,  where 
are  the  highest  tides  in  the  world.  Here  the 
sea  carries  in  its  salt  waves  up  to  where  the  dikes 
rise  against  them,  and  afterward  retreating,  they 
go  back  for  miles,  leaving  vast  tracts  of  mud  flats 
exposed  to  the  view.  For  many  miles  all  around 
there  are  rivers  that  run  into  this  bay,  all  of  which 


!l|! 


I 


1 


11 1  r 


30 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


are  subject  to  the  same  tides,  and  experience  tlie 
same  great  vicissitudes,  changing  twice  in  tlie 
twenty-tour  liours  from  shalkiw  rivulets  at  the  bot- 
tom of  valleys  of  mud,  to  vast  rivers  which  flow 
with  swift  and  full  streams.  Twice  on  each  day 
the  stream,  which  can  scarce  float  a  canoe,  will  grow 
to  a  mighty  volume  of  water,  where  navies  might 
pass.  Twice  each  day  may  be  seen  the  startling 
spectacle,  once  used  as  a  formula  for  the  impossible, 
of  rivers  running  from  the  sea  up  their  channels ; 
and  twice  on  each  day  the  scene  on  Minas  shores 
changes  from  a  wide  expanse  of  red  mud  to  a  vast 
sheet  of  deep-blue  sea. 

All  that  is  Avonderful  and  all  that  is  sublime  in 
nature  may  be  found  here,  side  by  side  with  all 
that  is  most  sweet  and  beautiful.  Behind  the  hill 
on  whose  slope  the  school  stands  lies  the  valley 
of  the  Gaspereaux,  an  Eden-like  retreat,  shut  in 
by  high  hills  and  watered  by  a  winding  river,  se- 
questered from  the  world,  full  of  that  strange 
charm  of  repose  that  may  so  seldom  be  met  with 
in  this  busy  age.  Before  the  hill  there  spreads 
away  for  many  a  mile  the  broad  vale  of  Cornwallis, 
through  which  there  flow  five  rivers,  whose  waters 
are  all  chained  up  at  their  mouths,  so  that  their 
beds  may  serve  for  verdurous  dike  lands  to  the 
farmers  of  the  valley.  Far  away  on  the  other 
side  extends  a  long  range  of  hills,  which  push 
themselves  forward  into  Minas  Basin  till  they  end 
in  a  precipitous  cliif,  whose  towering  form  is  the 


BJ.OMIDON. 


31 


lels ; 


contro  of  attraction  for  many  and  many  a  mile. 
This  is  the  famous  Cape  13h)midon,  whose  position 
is  so  peculiar,  and  whose  shape  is  so  striking, 
that  it  forms  the  central  object  to  spectators  all 
around  the  shores  of  the  bay.  Here  is  a  channel 
opening  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy  outside,  and  this 
channel  is  tlie  gate-way  through  which  the  dis- 
turbed and  impetuous  waters  of  the  two  seas  for- 
ever rush  backward  and  forward. 

In  that  outer  bay  there  are  fierce  tides,  and  swift 
currents,  and  iron-bound  shores,  and  lonely  rocky 
isles ;  there  are  dense  fogs,  sharp  squalls,  and  sud- 
den storms.  The  mists  that  prevail  there  are  kept 
away  by  that  loi'ty  wall  which  terminates  in  Blomi- 
don,  and  cannot  penetrate  into  the  well-protected 
country  within.  The  mists  and  the  fogs  seem  like 
baffled  enemies,  long  beleaguering,  but  never  vic- 
torious. From  the  sunny  plains  of  Cornwallis  and 
Grand  Pr^  they  may  be  seen  crowded  and  piled 
up  on  the  top  of  Blomidon,  frowning  darkly  and 
menacingly  upon  the  scene  beneath,  as  tlumgh 
eager  to  descend.  But  Old  Bhmiidon  guards  well 
the  land  which  he  protects,  and  the  mist  and  the 
fog  that  cross  his  crest  are  broken  and  dissipated 
into  thin  air. 

From  all  this  there  arise  wondrous  atmospheric 
effects.  Here,  when  the  fog  is  piled  up  in  gloomy 
masses  over  Bhmiidon,  and  the  sun  is  setting  be- 
hind them,  may  be  seen  a  spectacle  so  gorgeous 
that,  if  it  could  be  portrayed  on  canvas,  few  would 


32 


THE    B.    0.    \V.    C. 


believe  it  to  be  a  copy  of  nature.  It  would  be 
deemed  the  fantastic  vision  of  some  artist  mad 
from  love  of  deep  gloom  and  vivid  color ;  for  the 
colors  here  at  sunset  are  sometimes  as  numerous, 
as  varied,  and  as  vivid  as  those  of  a  rainbow. 
The  whole  west  glows  with  indescribable  glory, 
when  out  of  black  clouds  and  voluminous  folds  of 
whirling  fog-wreaths  there  beams  a  gorgeous  red, 
forth  from  which  shoot  up  innumerable  rays  far 
into  the  zenith,  formed  of  every  hue  and  shade, 
which  shift  and  change  like  the  rays  of  the  Aurora 
Borealis,  and  cast  upon  all  the  sky  and  upon  all  the 
earth  something  of  their  own  splendid  radiance. 

Early  on  the  morning  wliich  followed  the  meet- 
ing of  the  "  B.  0.  ^y.  C,"  a  singular  scene  was  pre- 
sented in  front  of  the  Academy.  A  crowd  had 
gathered  there  surrounding  a  very  remarkable 
group.  There  was  a  cart  containing  a  number  of 
baskets  and  some  pots,  in  wliich  was  harnessed  a 
quadruped  which  charity  might  consent  to  name  a 
horse,  but  which  looked  more  like  a  skeleton  of 
one  of  the  extinct  species.  Seated  high  and  dry 
in  an  old  arm-chair  was  the  venerable  figure  of 
Solomon  in  his  robes  of  office,  that  is  to  say,  his 
office  of  Perpetual  Grand  Fanjandrum.  He  had 
an  old  college  cap  and  gown,  ajid  a  master's  hood, 
while  the  spectacles  that  bestrided  his  nose,  and 
the  altitude  of  his  shirt  collar,  were  of  themselves 
sufficient  to  strike  awe  into  the  beholder.  Behind 
the  cart  wore  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C,"  robed  in  the  red 


THE   PROCESSION   MOVE^. 


33 


sliirts  and  plumed  hats  wliich  Bart  had  found  ibr 
tlieni.  Bart  had  a  pistol  in  his  holt.  Each  one  had 
something,  if  it  were  nothing  better  than  a  jase- 
knife.  But  the  centre  of  all  eyes  was  the  flag. 
Tliis  Bart  had  generously  handed  over  to  Bruce 
Kawdon,  who  was  the  Most  Venerable  Patriarch 
for  the  month  of  May.  As  the  wind  caught  it  and 
unfolded  it  before  the  astonished  eyes  of  the  other 
boys,  the  skeleton  head  grinned  benignantly  at 
them  from  his  airy  home,  and  a  loud  shout  of  ad- 
miration burst  forth  from  all. 

Solomon  cracked  his  whip.  The  procession 
started.  The  noise,  the  laughter,  and  the  joking 
were  wonderful.  Heads  ai)peared  at  all  the  win- 
dows of  the  house  where  the  teachers  lived. 
There  were  the  laughing  faces  of  Dr.  Porter  and 
his  family  ;  there  was  the  wondering  gaze  of  Mr. 
Simmons,  the  mathematical  teacher ;  and  there,  at 
another  window,  the  long,  solemn  physiognomy  of 
Mr.  Long,  of  the  English  department.  Thus  the 
procession  went  on,  followed  by  all  the  boys,  and 
the  centre  of  admiring  interest.  It  was  a  proud 
moment  for  the  "  B.  O.  W.  C." 

In  this  fashion  they  went  up  the  hill  behind  the 
Academy,  and  at  length  reached  the  woods.  They 
passed  several  cavities  in  the  ground  which  had 
once  been  cellars  of  the  old  Acadian  houses.  They 
passed  through  an  orchard  where  the  old,  neglected 
apple  trees  still  spoke  of  the  Acadian  farmer  who 
had  planted  them  and  cleared  the  forest  around. 


34 


TFIE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


ii 


I    III  i' ' 


I 


ill 
iii; 

!  \i 


Tlio  road  entered  the  woods,  and  tliey  went  along 
for  some  distance.  At  last,  in  the  midst  of  the 
woods  they  turned  aside  to  the  left,  and  after  a 
hundred  yards  or  so  they  stopped,  and  the  cart 
was  unloaded. 

At  tliis  place  there  was  a  steep  descent  on  the 
right  tlirough  the  thick  woods.  Down  this  the 
"  B.  0.  W.  C."  carried  the  articles  which  they  had 
brought.  On  reaching  the  bottom,  they  emerged 
into  a  space  clear  of  trees,  where  a  brook  ran  bab- 
bling on.  About  twenty  yards  up,  a  dam  had  been 
built,  and  a  pond  of  water  formed,  at  one  end  of 
which  was  a  large  camp  made  of  spruce  and  fir. 
Shut  in  among  the  woods,  with  the  little  pond  in 
front  of  it,  and  the  brook  babbling  behind  it,  it 
formed  as  secluded  a  place  as  could  be  desired. 
This  spot  was  once  the  hiding-j)lace  of  Bart  during 
his  second  flight,  and  had  ever  since  been  a  favorite 
resort  of  his.  There  were  many  camps  and  pleas- 
ant arbors  through  the  woods,  but  the  newly-made 
pond  had  given  to  this  place  the  undoubted  pre- 
eminence. It  had  all  been  done  very  secretly 
within  a  week,  and  all  the  other  boys  now  saw  it 
for  the  first  time,  and  gave  utterance  to  their  feeh 
ings  in  low  murmurs  of  surprise  and  admiration. 
But  the  ''  B.  O.  W.  C."  had  much  to  attend  to. 
First  of  all,  they  had  to  carry  down  their  provis- 
ions. Then  they  had  to  arrange  them,  and  finally 
they  had  the  most  important  duty  of  all  to  attend 
to,  which  was  no  less  momentous  a  thing  than 


I 


THE    OTHER    BOYS    CURIOUS. 


S.*) 


I 


I 


hoisting  tlioir  flag.  Soon  the  nioniont  came.  A 
pole  had  been  already  jirepared.  The  ropes  were 
attached,  the  })ole  was  nailed  to  a  corner  post  of 
the  camp,  and  the  flag  was  hauled  up  to  its  place 
with  loud  cheers,  in  which  all  the  other  boys  joined 
with  the  greatest  vigor. 

After  this  the  "  B.  O.  W.  C."  flung  themselves 
down  and  rested  for  a  time.  The  other  boys 
inspected  the  place  closely,  and  questioned  the 
owners  of  the  camp  as  to  their  intention. 

"  Are  you  going  to  sleep  here  ?  " 

"  0,  yes." 

"  What'll  you  sleep  on  ?  " 

"  Brush,  of  course." 

"  And  will  you  cook  ?  " 

"  O,  yes." 

"  Have  you  a  fireplace  ?  " 

"  No,  but  we're  going  to  make  one  to-day." 

"  What'll  you  do  if  it  rains  ?  " 

"  Grin  and  bear  it" 

"  Pooh  !     You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you'd  stay 
here  if  you  got  wet  through." 

"  Wouldn't  we,  though  ?     You  see." 

"  Dr.  Porter  wouldn't  let  you." 

"O,  yes,  he  would.      He  always  says   it  don't 
hurt  boys  to  get  wet." 

"0,  he  means  by  day.      He   wouldn't  let  you 
sleep  here  in  a  storm." 

"  Why  not?     The  camp  is  good  enough." 
"  Good  enough  ?     It  can't  keep  the  rain  off." 


36 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


I  : 


i'         I 


i| 


|l 


"  0,  yes,  it  can." 

"  You  haven't  enough  to  eat  hero  —  have  you?" 
asked  others. 

"  Plenty." 

"  Nonsense !  It  will  all  be  gone  before  two 
days." 

"  Well,  can't  we  easily  got  things?  I've  got  a 
pistol,  and  mean  to  shoot  hares  and  things." 

Bart  proudly  displayed  his  pistol,  and  the  sight 
of  this  formidable  arm  silenced  all  controversy. 

"  Besides,"  said  Bart,  proudly, "  we've  got  a  gun." 

"  A  gun  !  "  repeated  the  others,  in  low  tones. 

"  Yes ;  we  expect  to  be  attacked." 

"  Attacked  ?     Who'd  attack  you  ?  " 

"  (),  the  Gaspereaugians." 

("  The  Gaspereaugians  "  was  a  name  given  by 
the  boys  to  tlie  inliabitants  of  Gasporeaux.) 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  ?  " 

"  Of  course} ;  but  if  they  try  it,  they'll  find  us 
ready  for  them,"  said  Bai't,  fiercely.  "  We've 
hoisted  our  flag,  and  I'd  like  to  see  the  Gasper- 
eaugian  that  would  dare  to  pull  it  down." 

"  Well,  if  it  comes  to  that,  you've  got  us,  you 
know.     We'll  be  on  hand." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Bart,  gravely.  "  I'll  tell  you 
what  we're  going  to  do :  we'll  send  out  scouts,  and 
if  we  see  any  signs  of  an  attack,  we'll  let  you 
know.  I've  got  a  trumpet  here,  and  when  I  blow 
three  times,  you'll  be  along  to  help.     See." 

And  Bart  stopped  back  to  a  bundle,  out  of  which 


liii 


CAMP-BUILDING. 


37 


ho  pulled  a  long  tin  horn,  of  the  kind  known  among 
'longshoremen  aw  "  fog-horns." 

^'  JJut  we  won't  blow  it  till  we're  hard  u\),  you 
know,"  he  continued.  ^'  We'll  only  blow  it  if  they 
come  in  a  great  crowd,  you  know." 

"  O,  yes  ;  of  course." 

The  boys  now  broke  up  into  little  knots,  and 
proposed  all  sorts  of  plans.  A  msuiia  for  camping 
out  set  in  strong  among  them  all.  The  example 
of  the  ''  B.  ().  W.  C."  in  damming  the  stream  was  to 
be  imitated  at  once.  Each  little  knot  of  boys  had 
places  })oculiar  to  themselves  along  the  same  stream, 
some  of  which  were  the  work  of  predecessors,  and 
had  something  like  a  history.  After  a  time  most 
of  the  boys  went  back  for  spades,  pickaxes,  shov- 
els, axes,  and  whatever  else  might  be  needed  for  the 
great  work  of  camp-building.  The  ''  B.  ().  W.  ('." 
then  turned  their  attention  toward  the  comple- 
tion of  their  own  camp.  A  firei)lace  had  still  to 
be  built,  and  brush  cut  for  beds.  To  this  they  do- 
voted  themselves  very  vigorously,  and  worked  till 
about  ten  o'clock,  when  their  labors  were  suddenly 
interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  Dr.  Porter  and 
Mr.  Sinnnons.  They  stood  for  some  time  looking 
with  a  smile  at  the  busy  scene,  before  they  were 
noticed.  As  soon  as  the  boys  recognized  their 
visitors,  they  came  up  laughing,  eager  to  describe 
the  beauties  of  their  camp.  Dr.  Porter  was  much 
amused,  particularly  with  the  flag,  which  floated 
from  the  mast. 


1 


I-'! 


!   if 


i  !i 


11 


I  |i 


ill 


!'i 


ill 


i ! 


38 


THH    H.    ().    W.    C. 


"Boys,"  Hiui]   he   ;it   leiigtli,  {if'ter  lie   liud  asked 
about  cverytliiii;::,  ''  1  have  come  up  to  make  you  an 


oil 


er 


>> 


"  An  oiler?     What  is  it,  sir?"  cried  they  all. 

"  llow  would  you  like  to  ^ive  up,  for  the  present, 
your  bandit  cam}),  take  away  all  your  provision, 
haul  down  your  flajj;,  and  jj^o  away?" 

"  What,  sir ! "  cried  the  boys  in  constcrnati(m, 
and  a  cloud  of  gloom  passed  over  their  faces. 

"  How  would  you  like  me  to  charter  a  little 
schooner,  fill  it  with  provisions,  turn  the  hold  into 
a  sleeping'-place,  and  start  oti'  for  a  week's  cruise 
anmnd  the  Basin  of  Minas,  going  ashore  at  the 
Five  Islands,  at  Parrsboro',  at  Blomidon,  and  at 
any  other  place  where  we  might  wish?  What 
do  you  say  to  that?  Ah,  ha!"  cried  the  doctor, 
as  he  watched  the  changing  faces  of  the  boys, 
where  the  gloom  had  vanished  instantly,  and 
given  ])lace  to  the  wildest  delight.  '^  Ah,  ha !  that 
suits  you  —  does  it !  Well,  that's  what  I've  come 
to  propose." 

"  O,  Dr.  Porter!  Are  yon  really  in  earnest? 
Do  yon  mean  it?  —  a  schooner  —  a  schooner?  — 
a  crnise  round  Minas  Basin  ?  0,  good !  good  1 
good  !     Hurrah  !     Three  cheers  !  " 

A  hundred  incoherent  shouts  and  words  like 
these  burst  from  the  boys  as  they  dashed  about  in 
wild  and  frantic  delight,  overwhelmed  with  joy 
at  this  proposal  to  all  of  them.  It  seemed  a  thing 
so  glorious  that  nothing  of  which  the  mind  could 


DR.    POHTEU    PROPOSES   A    VOYAdE. 


30 


concoivo  was  tu  bo  compariMl  witli  it.  A  cruiso 
round  Minus  Hasiii !  Wliat  did  not  that  involve? 
Adventures  of  a  hundred  kinds  ;  drifting  altout  in 
wild  tides;  getting-  lost  in  dense  I'o^s ;  running 
ashore  on  witle  mud  Hats,  or  on  precipitous  clill's, 
or  on  the  edge  of  perilous  breakers;  landing  on 
lonely  headlands,  or  on  solitary  islands;  penetrating 
far  forests ;  camping  out  in  wildernesses ;  living 
j)irate  fashion  in  their  own  schooner,  where  all 
would  be  given  up  to  them;  shooting,  fishing; 
hunting  for  gulls'  nests;  —  it  meant  not  sham  ad- 
ventures, but  real  ones  —  with  real  dangers  envi- 
roning them  instead  of  fancied  ones.  They  could 
cease  playing  at  Rol)bers,  and  play  what  to  them 
seemed  the  nobler  part  of  Pirates ;  the  skull- 
and-cross-bones  flag  could  adorn  the  schooner,  and 
the  fog-trumpet  could  sound  forth  amid  the  echo- 
ing clilfs  of  Blomidon.  It  meant  anything  and 
everything,  and  far  more  than  even  their  vivid 
fancies  could  very  well  portray.  To  most  boys  the 
sea  always  promises  more  adventure  than  the  land ; 
there  is  always  something  of  the  joy  of  discovery 
in  every  new  voyage,  and  so  all  these  boys  felt 
now;  but  to  Bart,  most  of  all,  was  the  prospect 
most  delightful ;  for  he  had  already  known  to  the 
full  that  longing  for  the  sea  which  many  boys  have, 
and  that  which  his  father  had  prevented  him  from 
realizing,  now  seemed  to  come  to  him.  In  some  re- 
spects this  seemed  to  be  better  than  the  voyage 
which  he  had  formerly  dreamed  of;  for  though  it 


!  1 


!'! 


1     I 


1   li 


40 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


would  not  be  long,  yet  it  would  be  varied  and 
isventful,  and  not  free  from  danger.  Best  of  all, 
it  would  be  made  in  company  with  the  other  boys. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  boys  were  able,  in 
their  excitement,  to  get  any  clear  idea  of  what  Dr. 
Porter  was  telling  them.  At  length  they  learned 
that  Mr.  Simmons  and  Mr.  Long  wished  to  visit 
Blomidon  and  the  Five  Islands  in  search  after  min- 
erals, with  which  the  cliffs  are  filled.  They  had 
concluded  to  get  a  schooner,  and  take  the  larger 
boys  with  them.  They  expected  to  spend  about 
a  week,  and  take  provisions  sufficient  for  that  time. 
Dr.  Porter  would  not  be  able  to  go  himself,  but 
would  intrust  the  boys  to  the  care  and  the  juris- 
diction of  Messrs.  Simmons  and  Long.  Such  was 
the  plan. 

Moreover,  the  schooner  was  already  engaged. 
It  was  the  Antelope,  Captain  Corbet ;  and  it  was 
proposed  to  leave,  if  possible,  that  very  afternoon, 
so  as  to  be  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  or  at  least 
near  Blomidon,  by  sundown.  As  it  was  then  ten 
o'clock,  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  but  everything 
should  be  prepared  at  once,  and  taken  on  board  the 
Kcliooner.  One  thing  only  was  insisted  on  by  Dr. 
Porter ;  and  that  was,  that  they  should  take  no  fire- 
arms. Bart  pleaded  so  liard  for  his  little  pistol, 
however,  that  the  doctor  let  him  keep  it,  and 
satisfied  himself  by  making  them  leave  the  gun 
behind. 


EXTRAORDINARY    PROCESSION. 


41 


III. 

Another  extraordinary  Procession.  —  An  eccentric 
Crew.  —  AJli(/hfi/  Skipper. —  Wonderful  Attach- 
rnent  of  Cajdain  Corbet  to  his  Offspring.  —  Steal- 
imj  a  Stone  Fence,  and  raising  the  Black  Flag. 


Vi 


OON  tliG  woods  were  deserted.  Twelve  or 
fifteen  boys  were  selected  as  Avortliy  of  the 
adventurous  voyage,  and  these  all  made  their 
})reparations,  while  the  smaller  boys  looked  on  with 
longing  eyes.  As  for  the  "  J^.  ().  W.  C,"  they  had 
no  preparations  to  make.  They  needed  only  to 
transfer  their  provisions  and  other  things  from  the 
camp  to  the  schooner.  The  teachers  were  to  see 
about  the  bedding,  etc.  These  boys  therefore 
enlisted  Old  Solomon  in  their  service,  and  packed 
tlieir  things  once  more  in  the  same  cart  which  had 
taken  them  to  the  camp  ;  after  which  they  waited 
to  acc(^mpany  the  others  to  the  schooner.  All 
possible  haste  was  made;  and  soon  there  started 
for  the  schooner  a  procession  even  more  extraor- 
dinary than  the  one  which  had  gone  into  the 
Woods. 

First  of  all  went  a  huge  hay-cart  crammed  with 


I 
i     :■ 

t  Pi 


4 


42 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


bedding;  tliGn  followed  a  wagon  filled  with  pro- 
visions ;  and  after  this  the  cart  of  the  "  B.  ().  W.  C," 
driven  by  Solomon.  Then  followed  the  voyageurs 
in  procession ;  and  after  these  came  the  small 
boys,  green  with  envy.  Messrs.  Simmons  and 
Long  walked  modestly  on  the  sidewalk,  not  caring 
to  identify  themselves  with  so  odd  a  crowd. 

In  fact  it  was  an  odd  crowd.  First  there  was 
Solomon  in  full  canonicals,  then  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C." 
in  their  red  shirts  and  plumed  caps,  with  axes  and 
knives  in  their  l)elts ;  and  then  followed  their 
companions  in  the  voyage,  dressed  more  oTotesquely 
still.  All  the  old  clothes  that  could  be  .bund  were 
pressed  into  service  for  this  occasion.  Old  pea- 
jackets,  old  ^'  st)u'-wester  "  hats,  old  coats  denuded 
of  skirts,  jackets  in  a  state  of  dilapidation,  battered 
caps,  shocking  bad  hats,  which  had  not  been  on  a 
human  head  for  ever  so  long,  —  all  were  now 
brought  into  requisition,  and  formed  an  assemblage 
which  was  sufficient  to  drive  an  "  Old  Clo' "  man 
wild  with  covetousness. 

Now,  as  Homer,  at  the  outset  of  his  poem,  enu- 
merates the  ships  and  chieftains,  so  will  I  complete 
the  enumeration  of  the  voyageurs  in  this  adventur- 
ous expedition. 

First,  then,  there  came  a  little  Irishman,  who 
had  accidentally  dropped  into  the  Academy,  and 
had  remained.  His  name  was  Michael  Murphy, 
and  consequently  he  was  always  called  Pat,  except 
when  the  boys  called  him  Patsie,  —  for  short,  as 


■^ 


THE  VOYAGEURS. 


43 


man 


tlioy  paid.  ITo  wore  an  old  sky-bliio  dress-coat, 
■with  three  brass  buttons  still  remaining,  fastened 
around  the  waist  with  a  red  woollen  comforter.  A 
battered  silk  hat,  with  the  top  of  the  crown  off, 
completed  his  costume. 

Witli  him  came  Peter  Fraser,  commonly  known 
as  Jolinnie  Blue,  a  thick-set,  bullet-headed  boy,  full 
of  obstinate,  persevering  courage,  and  dressed  in  a 
sailor's  pea-jacket,  made  to  fit  himself  by  the  simple 
plan  of  cutting  off  the  sleeves.  He  wore  a  sou'- 
wester, and  carried  a  sailor's  knife.  In  fact,  his 
get-up  was  very  remarkably  nautical. 

Then  came  David  Bigg,  a  tall,  solemn,  pale  boy, 
very  studious,  with  a  taste  for  geology.  He  wore 
an  old  overcoat  minus  the  tails,  and  a  knitted  yarn 
night-cap.  Pavid  Digg  was  always  called  Bogud 
by  the  boys,  from  the  fact  that  in  one  of  the  rules 
of  the  Latin  Grammar  they  had  learned  that 
"  David  and  Bogud  are  common." 

Tlien  came  George  McLeod,  whose  name  was 
facetiously  contracted  into  Muckle.  By  some  ex- 
traordinary means  he  had  obtained  possession  of  a 
soldier's  red  coat,  and  produced  an  immense  sen- 
sation. 

Then  came  Jacob  Wiggins,  whose  name  was 
easily  contracted  into  Jiggins,  by  which  name 
alone  he  was  known.  He  wore  a  red  bandana 
liandkerchief  around  his  head,  and  was  arrayed  in 
a  l)ig  gray  homespun  coat,  which  he  had  borrowed 
from  a  friendly  farmer. 


'Ill 


^        ,.,ft,..,lll,ii,.l|,ill.,    JllUHii    ..I. 


1  HI 

I     'i 


ill 


ll 


Ml! 

iiii 


m 


44 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


After  these  marched  William  MacNamara,  known 
as  Billymack,  wearing  a  tail  coat,  long  top  boots, 
and  a  felt  hat. 

And  last,  there  was  George  Henderson,  who  had 
gained  the  singular  name  of  Sammy  Ram  Ram, 
which  occurs  in  one  of  Dr.  Bird's  novels,  from  some 
amusing  incident  in  his  school  life.  A  very  old 
jacket,  a  very  ragged  pair  of  trousers,  and  a  hat 
on  the  extreme  verge  of  decrepitude,  formed  his 
attire. 

The  chief  harbor  of  Grand  Prd  now  goes  by  the 
name  of  Mud  Creek,  and  is  one  of  the  many  ex- 
amples which  go  to  prove  that  the  Anglo-Saxon, 
though  superior  to  the  Frenchman  in  colonizing  a 
nev/  country,  is  very  far  hi  s  inferior  in  giving 
names  to  the  places  which  he  may  have  colonized. 
At  this  place  the  party  soon  arrived,  and  looked 
for  the  vessel.  To  their  surprise,  they  found  her 
quite  deserted,  lying  aground  at  a  wharf  On 
going  aboard,  they  found  that  no  preparations 
whatever  had  been  made. 

"  This  is  too  bad  !  "  cried  Mr.  Long,  in  tones  of 
deep  vexation.  ''  Corbet  promised  to  be  here  early, 
and  have  everything  ready.  I  wonder  what  can 
have  become  of  him." 

Saying  this,  he  started  off  to  try  and  find  Captain 
Corbet.     After  about  half  an  hour  ho  returned. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  he  said  ;  "  we  can't 
afford  to  wait.  We  must  begin  right  away  and 
make  our  arrangements." 


THEY   STEAL    A.    FENCE. 


45 


'^  The  re's  no  ballast  on  board,"  said  Mr.  Simmona, 
wlio  had  been  carefully  inspecting  the  vessel, 
''  and  no  floor  in  the  hold." 

"  What !  "  cried  JMr.  Long ;  and  hurrying  on 
board,  he  soon  saw  that  such  was  indeed  the  case. 
He  then  stood  for  a  time  vexed  and  perplexed. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  he  at  length,  "  we  must  all 
get  to  work,  so  that  we  may  be  ready  when  Corbet 
does  come.  There's  a  pile  of  atones  over  there 
which  will  do  very  well  for  ballast ;"  and  he  pointed 
to  a  stone  wall  which  surrounded  a  garden  close 
l)y  the  wharf.  "  Now  come,  boys,"  he  continued, 
"  form  a  line  from  the  stones  to  the  schooner,  and 
pass  them  all  along  from  hand  to  hand." 

"  But  it's  j\Ir.  Brown's  fence,"  objected  Mr.  Sim- 
mons, who  did  not  relish  this  infringement  on  the 
rights  of  another. 

"  0,  Mr.  Brown  won't  mind  !  "  was  the  reply. 
"  He  knows  me.  Come,  boys  ;  "  and  Mr.  Long,  who 
was  always  rapid  and  energetic,  soon  formed  the 
boys  in  line,  and  the  stones  were  speedily  trans- 
ferred from  hand  to  hand. 

"  Mr.  Sinmions,"  said  Mr.  Long,  after  a  time,  ''  I 
tliink  I'll  go  and  get  some  boards."  And  saying 
this,  he  hurried  away,  leaving  the  others  hard  at 
work,  and  expecting  the  absent  Corbet.  The  boys 
worked  with  a  will ;  and  even  the  smaller  ones, 
who  were  to  have  no  part  in  the  voyage,  formed 
another  line,  and  passed  on  the  smaller  stones.  At 
the  end  of  two  hours  the  vessel  was  considered  by 


46 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


■* 


t  : 

t   ■   i 


\'\\ 


Mr.  Simmons  to  liave  sufficient  ballast,  the  garden 
wall  had  vanished,  and  the  boys  stood  waiting,  with 
blistered  hands,  for  Captain  Corbet. 

While  they  were  waiting,  Mr.  Long  once  more 
appeared. 

"  What !  hasn't  Corbet  come  yet  ?  "  he  cried. 

''  No." 

Mr.  Long  looked  around  in  despair. 

"  I've  had  to  go  thr(3e  miles  for  the  boards,"  said 
he.  "  They'll  be  here  in  a  few  minutes.  Every- 
thing is  against  us  to-day.  AVe've  got  to  work 
hard  yet,  or  we  won't  get  off.  Mr.  Simmons,  would 
you  be  kind  enough  to  go  and  see  if  you  can  find 
Corbet  in  the  village  ?  and  I'll  go  down  into  the 
hold  to  lay  the  flooring." 

Off  went  Mr.  Simmons,  and  down  went  Mr.  Long 
into  the  hold.  The  wagon  soon  arrived  with  the 
boards,  which  were  passed  down  to  him,  and  speedi- 
ly laid  over  the  ballast.  Thanks  to  his  skill  and 
energy,  the  floor  w^as  soon  made.  Then  the  boys 
set  to  work  throwing  down  the  bedding,  and  ar- 
ranging the  trunks  and  baskets.  There  was  not 
much  time,  however,  for  any  arrangements.  The 
things  lay  in  a  confused  heap,  with  a  busy  crowd 
laboring  to  reduce  them  to  order. 

At  the  end  of  about  half  an  hour  Mr.  Simmons 
returned,  shaking  his  head.  He  had  not  found 
Captain  Corbet.  Things  began  to  look  desperate. 
It  was  now  high  tide,  and  high  time  for  leaving. 
Time  and  tide,  which  wait  for  no  man,  were  not 
going  to  wait  for  Captain  Corbet. 


1,11,     I' 


^ 


5  T 


II 


1 


CAPTAIN  Corbet's  baby. 


47 


There  was  tlie  Antelope  all  ready.  She  was  not 
mnch  of  a  vessel,  it  is  true.  She  resembled  a 
wash-tub  in  many  important  points.  She  looked 
leaky.  She  smelled  strong  of  potatoes  ;  and  rightly 
so,  for  that  important  vegetable  formed  her  in- 
variable cargo.  The  name  Antelope  was  a  delight- 
I'lil  jest.  Her  chains  were  deeply  eaten  with  rust ; 
her  cordage  and  rigging  had  a  time-worn  appear- 
ance. A  venerable  air  of  decay  rested  about  her. 
Yet  still,  in  spite  of  all,  there  she  was,  and  a  dozen 
eager  young  hearts  were  burning  to  embark  in  her, 
and  be  away  before  the  tide  should  fall. 

At  last  Mr.  Long  started  off,  in  company  with 
Mr.  Simmons,  to  hunt  up  Captain  Corbet,  or  some 
other  man  who  might  go  in  his  place.  The  boys 
stood  about  the  wharf  waiting  impatiently  for  their 
return. 

Mr.  Long  and  his  companion  hurried  to  the 
village  inn,  and  found  out  that  Captain  Corbet  lived 
three  miles  away.  So  they  borrowed  a  horse  and 
wagon,  and  drove  off  as  fast  as  possible  to  the 
house.  Arriving  there,  they  entered,  and  beheld 
a  scene  which  so  overpowered  Mr.  Long  that  for 
a  time  he  could  not  speak. 

For  there  in  his  kitchen,  in  a  high-backed  chair, 
in  front  of  his  own  hearth-stone,  —  there  sat  the 
identical  Captain  Corbet  for  whom  so  many  had 
been  waiting  so  long.  He  held  an  infant  in  his 
manly  arms,  he  was  gently  tilting  his  chair  to  and 
fro,  and  tenderly  feeding   his   prattling  innocent 


48 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


!!•  ! 


with  a  spoon.  So  intent  was  he  upon  his  tender 
task,  that  ho  did  not  hear  the  entrance  of  hia  ox- 
cited  pursuers. 

"  Captain  Corbet !  " 

The  tone  in  AvOiich  Mr.  Long  spoke  cannot  po8» 
sibly  be  represented  in  print ;  or  at  any  rate  to  do 
so  would  require  more  notes  of  admiration  than  are 
usually  found  in  any  common  printing  office.  The 
tone  will  have  to  be  imagined.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
that  Captain  Corbet  dropped  the  spoon,  —  almost 
dropped  the  baby  also,  —  and  started  to  his  feet  as 
though  he  had  been  stirred  up  by  a  galvanic  shock 
administered  full  on  the  ganglionic  centres. 

"  Captain  Corbet !  "  cried  Mr.  Long,  furiously. 
"  Didn't  you  say  you'd  be  on  the  wharf  in  good 
time,  and  that  the  Antelope  would  leave  at  this 
tide  ?  " 

"  Why  !  it's  Mr.  Long  !  "  said  Captain  Corbet. 
"  Why,  Mr.  Long  !  Glad  to  see  you.  Sit  down. 
Why,  you  railly  frightened  me.  Why,  I'm  railly 
pleased  to  see  you.     I  am,  railly." 

"  What  do  you  mean,"  cried  Mr.  Long,  in  a  great 
passion,  "  by  this  mockery  ?  Here  have  we  been 
waiting  for  you  ever  since  morning,  and  we've  had 
to  put  the  ballast  on  board  with  our  own  hands ; 
and  I  come  here  and  find  you  quite  indifferent. 
What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?     Are  you  going,  or  not?" 

"  Good  gracious  !  "  said  Captain  Corbet.  "  The 
ballast !  Why,  railly  now  !  Did  you  go  and  put 
it  on  board  ?    Why,  I  do  declare  I  " 


PARYGOMC   FOn   THE   RABY. 


49 


Mr.  Lonj^  ^ave  a  dark  frown,  and  with  a  violent 
effort  smotlierc'(l  ln*H  indiji^nation. 

"  Are  you  coniinpr,  or  not  ?  "  naid  he,  sternly. 

"Coming?  Why  —  not  jest  now.  Vou  Bee 
there's  the  babl)y." 

And  he  put  his  brown  finger  under  the  chin  of 
his  offspring,  and  actually  forgot  himself  so  far  as 
to  wln'stle  to  it ;  alter  wliich  he  cast  a  furtive 
glance  at  his  visitors,  as  though  half  expecting  that 
they  would  admire  tlie  child. 

"  Where's  Mrs.  Corbet  ?  It's  her  place  to  mind 
the  child  —  your  place  is  on  board  tiie  vessel." 

'^  Why,  I  can't  put  the  babby  on  the  floor,  as  I 
see  ;  nor  I  can't  take  him  on  board." 

"  Where's  Mrs.  Corbet  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,  she  started  off  airly  to  hunt  up 
some  parygolic.  The  babby's  troubled  with  wind, 
and  —  " 

'^  When  will  she  be  back  ? "  interrupted  Mr. 
Long. 

Captain  Corbet  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"  It  would  take  a  man  with  a  head  as  long  as  a 
horse  to  tell  that,"  said  he,  sententiously. 

''  Where  is  she  then  ?     I'll  drive  off'  and  get  her." 

"  She  !  law  bless  you,  I  don't  know  no  more'n  a 
onhatched  chick." 

"  Don't  know  1  You  surely  know  which  way 
she  went." 

"  Wal,  she  kind  o'  tho't  she'd  go  to  the  village, 
and  then  she  kind  o'  hinted  she'd  visit  her  married 


n--^ 


;! 


50 


THE   B.    O.   W.    C. 


Bister  tliat  lives  on  T^illy  Jackson's  farm.  They're 
down  witli  tlie  measles,  and  —  " 

'^  Bother  the  measles  !  Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  let  her  ^o  ofT,  and  quietly  sat  down  here  to 
nurse  your  baby,  when  you  ought  to  have  been  at 
work  ?  " 

''  I  didn't  let  her  go.  She  walked  off  herself. 
'Benjamin,'  says  she,  'take  care  of  the  babby.'  He's 
dreadful  fond  of  me.  Won't  be  fed  by  nobody  else. 
I  ginrally  feed  him  at  nights  when  he  wakes.  An' 
a  dreadful  high-sperited  creetur  is  that  child's 
mother.  An'  they  shan't  abuse  him.  No-o-o-o,"  he 
added,  abruptly,  turning  his  conversation  toward 
the  "  babby"  himself,  who  began  to  make  faces  and 
utter  sounds  premonitory  of  a  howl. 

Mr.  Long  turned  abruptly  away. 

^'  The  man's  an  idiot !  "  said  he  to  Mr.  Simmons. 
"  We'll  have  to  get  some  one  else  to  go  with  us." 

"  See  here,"  said  he,  turning  to  Captain  Corbet, 
who  was  stirring  up  '^^me  pap  to  feed  his  ''  babby;  " 
*'  I've  engaged  yo'  ooner,  and  I  mean  to  start 

in  her.     All  o'"  .^,8  are  on  board,  and  we  can't 

lose  a  whole  ^ .  You've  broken  your  engage- 
meiit ;  so  I'll  go  without  you.  I'll  find  somebody 
that  can  sail  her.  I'll  go  to  Captain  Pearson,  or 
old  McNeil,  or  somebody." 

"  There  ain't  a  skipper  in  the  place.  You  won't 
find  anybody.  I'm  the  on'y  schooner  here.  Every- 
body is  got  off  to  Bosting  with  taters.  I'd  been 
off,  too,  on'y  for  the  babby." 


MRS.    rORRET    PROMISES. 


61 


"  Well,  wlion  can  you  p^o  ?  " 

Cii|>tjiin  Corbet  shook  his  head. 

"  (),  it'll  bo  all  ri^lit.  I'll  be  alon^  —  some  time. 
I  dare  say  Mrs.  Corbet  '11  be  home  soon.  I)t)n't  be 
alarmed  about  me.     I'll  j)ut  you  throu^-h." 

"  See  here,  Captain  Corbet;  I'll  go  ofl'  now  and 
find  somebody  to  take  me.  You've  deceived  me, 
and  (bsai)[)ointed  me." 

Saying  this,  Mr.  Long  strode  out  of  the  house, 
followed  by  his  companion,  and  drove  away  rapidly 
in  search  of  some  one  to  navigate  the  schooner. 

All  his  efforts  were  vain.  It  was  as  Captain 
Corbet  said.  There  wasn't  any  one  in  the  place. 
P]very  seafaring  man  had  gone  off  in  some  kind  of 
potato  craft  to  Boston,  allured  by  the  high  prices 
of  potatoes.  Fortunes  were  being  made,  and  noth- 
ing but  the  desperate  imbecility  of  Corbet  pre- 
vented him  from  having  his  share  in  the  golden 
harvest.  Time  passed.  The  tide  fell  rapidly,  and 
the  vessel  was  again  left  aground  by  the  retreating 
waters.  It  would  be  necessary  to  postpone  their 
departure  until  the  following  day,  for  they  did  not 
care  about  starting  in  the  night. 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  They  would  have  to 
wait.  Mr.  Long  went  up  again  to  see  Captain 
Corbet,  and  extorted  from  him  a  promise  to  leave 
at  nine  o'clock  on  the  following  morning.  Before 
he  left  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  Mrs.  Corbet 
arrive  home,  and  got  her  to  promise  that  her 
iiusband  should  go.     As  this  was  the  only  thing 


■     ! 


II 


r    ;  J 


ii    ii 


II  I 


Mi! 
!    f 


:h'i 


52 


THE  B.   0.   W.   C. 


that  could  be  done,  lie  went  back  to  make  known 
the  state  of  tlie  case  to  the  boys. 

As  to  the  boys,  though  disappointed,  they  were 
not  at  all  cast  down.  They  had  possession  of  the 
vessel,  with  beds  and  provisi  .s,  and  on  the  vessel 
they  were  bound  to  remain.  Mr.  Long  found  that 
they  had  ea^.en  an  excellent  dinner,  and  were  pre- 
paring their  evening  repast  in  the  scliooner's  hold, 
which  they  now  considered  their  home.  They  did 
not  want  to  go  to  the  Academy  to  eat  or  to  sleep. 
They  were  navigators,  and  their  life  was  on  the 
ocean  wave,  their  home  on  the  rolling  deep. 

So  they  passed  the  night  on  board,  and  found  the 
first  experience  of  Avild  life  very  pleasant.  Songs 
and  laughter  arose  until  late,  and  it  was  midnight 
before  the  merry  voices  ceased  to  rise  into  the 
still  air. 

Early  the  next  morning  Mr.  Long  was  down,  and 
found  that  the  boys  had  already  finished  breakfast, 
and  were  eagerly  awaiting  the  next  turn  in  the 
proceedings  of  the  day.  He  communicated  to 
them  his  anxieties  about  Corbet,  and  gave  them  to 
understand  that  they  might  not  get  off  at  all,  unless 
they  could  secure  the  dawdling  skipper.  He  urged 
them  all  to  accompany  him  to  Corbet's  house,  so  as 
to  bring  a  moral  power  to  bear  which  he  would 
not  be  able  to  withstand. 

This  proposal  the  boys  received  with  three  stun- 
ning cheers. 

Off,  then,  started  all  the  boys,  headed  by  Mr. 


THE   SCHOONER   SAILS. 


53 


Long,  who,  in  his  excitement,  no  longer  cared 
about  the  ragged  regiment  at  his  heels.  For  three 
good  miles  they  footed  it  bravely,  and  at  length 
stood  in  front  of  Captain  Corbet's  door.  Mr.  Long 
entered,  and  found  the  navigator  seated  in  his 
kitclien  by  the  fireplace,  dandling  the  babby.  The 
wife  of  his  bosom  was  setting  the  breakfast  table. 

''  Good  morning,"  said  Mr.  Long. 

*'  Why,  it's  Mr.  Long  !  Railly  now,"  said  Cap- 
tain Corbet.  ''  An'  it  shall  see  Mr:  Long,  too,  —  so 
it  shall,"  he  continued,  holding  up  the  babby,  who 
fastened  its  large  blue  eyes  upon  the  visitor. 

Mr.  Long  turned  away,  and  spoke  aside  with 
Mrs.  Corbet.  Rightly  considering  that  she  was 
the  true  head  of  tlie  house,  he  begged  her  not  to 
let  them  be  disappointed  again.  He  was  success- 
ful. Mrs.  Corbet  assured  him  that  the  moment 
breakfast  was  over  she  would  send  him  off. 

''  And  we  will  wait,"  said  Mr.  Long. 

So  they  waited  patiently  ;  and  at  last  Captain 
Corbet  tore  himself  away  from  his  house,  his  wife, 
and  his  babby,  and  went  to  the  schooner,  accom- 
panied by  the  ragged  regiment  of  lioys. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock,  and  the  schooner  was 
afloat.  All  tumbled  on  board.  The  hawsers  were 
unloosed.  Captain  Corbet  had  to  go  asliore  to  got 
a  man  whom  ho  called  his  ''  niiite ; "  but  as  Mr. 
Long  went  with  him  but  little  time  was  lost. 

At  last  the  sails  were  hoisted.  The  wind  filled 
them,  and  the   Antelope  moved  slowly  from  tho 


;l 

I 

'    1 

> 

.1 

' 

!■■ 


'i        ( 


I 


64 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


wharf.  A  loud,  ringing  cheer  arose  as  the  schooner 
started.  Before  tlie  last  notes  died  away,  however^ 
a  man  was  seen  running  down  toward  the  wharf. 
He  was  short  and  fat,  and  panted  heavily.  Reach- 
ing the  wharf,  hr*  cast  one  look  of  consternation 
at  the  place  whero  the  garden  wall  had  been,  and 
another  at  the  schooner. 

"  They've  done  it,  by  jingo  !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Hallo  there  !  "  he  screamed.  "  Did  you  go  and 
take  my  fence  for  ballast,  Corbet  ?  " 

"  No,  1  didn't !  "  yelled  Corbet. 

"  You  did,  you  scoundrel !  Harris  saw  those 
young  reprobates  passing  the  stones  on  board. 
Bring  them  back  at  once,  every  one  of  them,  or  I'll 
make  you  sup  sorrow  !  " 

Here  Mr.  Long  stepped  forward. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  he.     "  It's  no  matter  —  " 

"  What !  "  cried  the  owner  of  the  fence.  "  I 
say  it  is  not  all  right ;  and  it  is  matter.  Bring  me 
back  my  fence  !  " 

"  I'll  bring  it  back." 

"  I'll  have  the  law  of  you  !  " 

"  All  right.     We'll  replace  it." 

"  Bring  it  back  !  " 

"  All  right." 

"  Bring  —  back  —  my  —  fence  —  !  " 

Further  and  further  away  the  schooner  moved, 
and  fainter  and  fainter  grew  the  voice  that  called 
after  them,  till  at  last  but  a  low  and  scarcely  audi- 
ble tone  could  be  heard. 


■11 


THE  FLAG  AT  MAST  HEAD. 


55 


As  tlie  vessel  moved  away,  Bart  stood  at  the 
mainmast.  He  had  worked  hard  the  da}^  before, 
running  some  lanyards  through  the  truck,  and 
now  the  moment  had  come  for  his  reward.  Bruce 
Rawdon  fired  his  pistol,  and  as  the  report  died 
away,  up  to  tlie  mast  head  went  the  black  flag  of 
the  "  B.  0.  W.  C." 

And  all  the  boys  greeted  it  with  a  cheer. 


If  .T'fl 


56 


THE   B.    0.    W.   C. 


fi< 


' 


■ 


n 


i       ll 
'      J' 


lY. 


Blomidon.  —  Tides  and  Fogs.  —  Songs  and  Sea- 
sickness. —  The  Five  Islands,  and  a  Race  up  a 
Precipice. 


K 


INDINGr  on  through  the  tortuous  channel 
of  the  creek,  they  reached  its  mouth  with- 
out accident,  and  passed  out  into  the  bay. 
The  morning  was  bright  and  beautiful,  the  wind 
blew  fair,  and  all  gave  themselves  up  to  the  joy  of 
the  occasion.  The  Antelope,  it  is  true,  was  of 
ancient  build  and  model ;  she  was  short,  and  broad, 
and  round,  but  the  wind  was  of  such  a  kind  as  to 
bring  out  whatever  capacity  for  sailing  she  might 
have.  The  sun  shone  brightly,  and  all  around 
them  sparkled  the  blue  waves  of  tlie  bay.  Behind 
them  was  the  long  level  of  Grand  Prd,  beyond 
wliich  the  hills  arose,  whose  slopes  were  dotted 
with  white  houses.  Before  them  was  the  wide  bay 
bounded  by  the  Parrsboro'  shore,  while  conspicu- 
ous, as  usual,  arose  the  grand  form  of  Blomidon. 

"  Is  Blomidon  a  French  name  ?  "  asked  Bart  of 
Mr.  Simmons. 

"  No.     It  is  said  to  be  a  corruption  of  the  words 


HIGH   TIDES. 


57 


Blow  Trie  down,  and  it  is  spelled  that  way  on  old 
maps.  A  good  many  old  coasting  skippers  pro- 
nounce it  in  that  way.  The  winds  that  prevail  out 
there  off  the  cape  are  a  sufficient  cause  for  such  a 
name." 

"  Are  there  more  winds  off  Blomidon  than  in 
other  parts  of  the  bay  ?  " 

"  0,  yes.  It  is  seldom  calm  there.  It  seems  as 
if  all  the  winds  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy  -nd  of  the 
Basin  of  Minas  struggled  together  ther  It  is  a 
sort  of  funnel  through  which  liiey  ai'  pour  back- 
ward or  forward.  Then  the  sea  out  Jiere  is  often 
quite  heavy.  The  meeting  of  diflcrent  currents 
and  diirerent  winds  causes  this.  Seldom  will  you 
find  a  place  where  such  fierce  currents  rush  to 
and  fro." 

"  Shall  we  land  at  Blomidon  first  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  we  can  with  this  wind.  It  will 
be  better,  I  think,  to  wait  till  we  come  back.  We 
will  go  across  the  Basin  to  the  Five  Islands  first." 

"  Where  are  the  highest  tides  of  this  Basin  ?  " 

"Do  you  see  away  there,"  said  Mr.  Simmons, 
pointing  far  away  toward  the  right,  "  where  the 
land  seems  to  sink  down  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  there  the  water  runs  up  till  it  ends  in 
the  Shubenacadie  River.  It  is  there  that  the  tide 
runs  highest,  and  I  suppose  there  is  no  part  of  the 
Ivorld  where  the  rise  is  so  great." 

"  Do  you  believe  it  rises  ninety  feet  ? 


n 


p 


58 


THE   B.   O.   W.    C. 


ff 


j'i 


i  i 


"I  have  heard  so,  —  at  spring  tides,  —  but  I 
rather  think  it  is  an  exaggeration.  It  is  difficult 
to  get  a  fair  and  accurate  measurement.  I  do  not 
think  that  it  rises  much  over  seventy  feet." 

"  That  is  high  enough  to  surpass  all  other  tides, 
I  should  think.     But  see  —  hallo  !  what's  that  ?  " 

"  And  Bart  darted  to  tlie  side  of  the  vessel,  at- 
tracted  by  a  shout.  A  large  schooner  was  approach- 
ing, on  board  of  which  all  were  staring  with  grin- 
ning faces  at  tlio  Antelope. 

"Is  that  Cai)tain  Kidd's  craft?"  shouted  one  of 
the  sailors. 

"  Yes,"  screamed  Bart.  "  We're  g(-)ing  to  dig  up 
a  little  buried  treasure." 

A  yell  of  derision  and  laughter  was  the  answer, 
to  which  the  boys  of  the  Antelope  responded  by 
wild,  unearthly  shouts ;  and  so  the  vessels  passed 
each  other. 

In  commemoration  of  this  little  incident,  one  of 
the  boys  commenced  to  sing  a  doleful  ditty,  known 
in  literature  as  "  The  Dying  Confession  of  Captain 
Kidd,"  of  which  the  following  lines  will  give  a 
good  idea: — 

"  O,  my  name  is  Captain  Kidd, 
As  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed ; 
O,  my  name  is  Captain  Kidd, 

As  I  sailed. 
O,  my  name  is  Captain  Kidd, 
And  much  wickedness  I  did, 
And  a  heap  of  gold  I  hid. 
As  I  sailed." 


■| 


THE   BOYS   SING. 


59 


One  song  started  another,  and  one  by  one  their 
favorite  school  songs  came  out.  One  of  these  was 
the  following :  — 

1st  Verse.     (Brisk.) 

"  Three  blue-bottles, 
Three  blue-bottles, 
Three  blue-bottles  sat 
On  a  milestone." 

Recitative. 
"  One  flew  away." 

2d  Verse.     (Slow.) 

"  Two  blue-bottles, 
Two  blue-bottles, 
Two  blue-bottles  sat 
On  a  milestone." 

Recitative. 
"  Another  flew  away." 

3d  Verse.     (Slower.) 
"  One  blue-bottle, 
One  blue-bottle. 
One  blue-bottle  sat 
On  a  milestone." 

Recitative. 
"  That  one  flew  away." 

4th  Verse.     (Very  slow,  very  sad,  and  very  solemn.) 
"  No  blue-bottles. 
No  blue-bottles, 
No  blue-bottles  sat 
On  a  milestone." 

Recitative. 
"  One  came  back." 


S 


ji 


1 


60  THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 

6th  Verse.     (Less  sad.) 

*'  One  blue-bottle, 
One  blue-bottle, 
One  blue-bottle  siit 
On  a  milestone." 

Gniflnally  the  blue-bottlorf  of  the  song  come  back, 
till  fiuully,  on  the  return  of"  the  three,  the  song 
comes  to  a  triumphant  conclusion. 

Standing  at  the  helm,  Captain  Corbet  gave  direc- 
tions from  time  to  time  to  the  "  mate  "  about  sail- 
ing the  vessel,  and  listened  to  the  songs  of  the 
boys  with  a  patriarchal  smile.  He  had  already 
shown  himself  so  accessible,  that  all  the  boys  had 
chatted  with  him ;  and  at  last  they  insisted  that  he 
should  sing.  Captain  Corbet  did  not  need  very 
much  solicitation.  Standing  at  the  helm  with  his 
eyes  half  closed,  he  began  in  a  thin,  shrill,  pi})ing, 
nasal  voice,  full  of  queer  tremolos  and  grace  notes, 
to  drone  out  several  melodies  of  a  varied  character. 
The  first  one  was  an  ancient  ballad,  called  "  The 
Farmier's  Boy,"  which  began  as  follows :  — 

"  O,  tbe  sky  was  black,  tbe  day  was  cold, 
And  the  winds  did  loud-ly  roar. 
When  cold  and  sad  there  corned  a  lad 
Into  a  farmier's  door. 

"  '  Can  you  tell  me,'  says  he,  '  if  any  there  be 
Wlio  want  to  give  eniplo-o-o-o-o-o-y 
For  to  plough  and  to  sow,  and  to  reap  and  to  mow, 
And  to  be  a  farmier's  bo-o-o-o-o-c  -o-y  — 
To  —  be  —  a  —  farmier's  bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-y .'"  " 


1 


A  SQUALL. 


61 


Another  song  referred  to  tlie  cliarms  of  domestic 
life,  and  was  evidently  directed  witii  a  fell,  satirical 
purpose  against  JMessrs.  Simmons  and  Long,  who 
were  both  hardened  bachelors,  and  who,  in  Captain 
Corbet's  estimation,  had  shown  a  degree  of  callous- 
ness and  indifference  to  the  sweet  attractions  of 
domestic  happiness  which  ould  not  be  too  strongly 
rebuked. 

Meantime  the  Antelope  Avas  drawing  nearer  to 
Blomidon,  and  while  listening  to  Cai)tain  Corbet's 
dulcet  strains,  they  were  gazing  with  admiration 
at  the  dark  promontory.  None  noticed  that  they 
were  approaching  a  place  where  the  water,  agitated 
by  the  wind,  and  driven  by  conflicting  currents, 
was  tossing  itself  up  into  foaming  waves ;  but  all 
stood  carelessly  about,  and  the  song  and  the  laugh 
went  on.  Suddenly  the  vessel  seemed  to  give  a 
jum]),  and  then  a  plunge  downward.  At  that  in- 
stant a  wave  came  dashing  over  the  bows,  saturat- 
ing to  the  skin  a  little  croAvd  that  had  gathered 
there.  Then,  with  a  rush,  and  a  crack,  and  a  wild 
singing  among  the  rigging,  a  squall  struck  the 
vessel.  Over  she  went  on  one  side,  while  fresh 
waves  dashed  over  her  gunwale.  In  an  instant  all 
was  confusion.  Every  boy  grasped  some  rope,  and 
held  on  for  his  life.  The  boys  who  had  been 
drenched  at  the  bows  looked  forlornly  at  their 
companions.  Then  —  poof !  came  another  blast, 
and  awa}^,  away  went  five  dark  objects  careering 
through  the  air  to  leeward.    A  cry  from  the  *'  B.  0. 


^s 


62 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


W.  C."  followed  this  last  niisliup.  They  had  lost 
their  hats,  their  beautiful  plumed  felt  hats,  their 
pride,  their  joy  —  lost  thein  ingloiiously  and  be- 
yond all  hope  of  recovery.  With  doleful  faces  they 
looked  at  one  another,  wondering  what  they  could 
do.  There  were  no  more  hats  on  board.  Tiiey 
thought  of  handkerchiefs,  and  so  one  after  another 
bound  his  handkerchief  around  his  head.  But  now 
there  was  not  much  chance  for  lamentation  over 
wet  jackets  or  lost  hats.  A  more  dismal  fate  was 
lowering-  over  them.  Each  one  knew  it,  saw  it,  felt 
it  in  his  inmost  soul.  For  the  sea  was  rough,  and 
the  little  schooner  pitched  and  tossed  every  way, 
rolling,  and  leaping,  and  jumping,  more  than  flesh 
and  blood  could  bear.  At  any  rate,  their  flesh  and 
blood  could  not  bear  it.  A  feeling  of  wretched- 
ness came  to  every  heart ;  every  face  grew  pale, 
and  assumed  an  expression  of  woe.  Suddenly 
Messrs.  Long  and  Simmons  disappeared  into  the 
cabin.  This  was  the  signal  for  others.  Many  fol- 
lowed. A  few,  however,  preferred  the  deck,  with 
its  fresh  air,  to  the  close  air  and  the  sickening 
smell  of  bilge-water  and  potatoes,  that  predominated 
below.  But  the  scene  had  changed  for  them  as  for 
all,  and  the  grandeur  of  Blomidon,  and  the  mag- 
nificence of  an  iron-bound  coast,  were  forgotten. 
Hushed  was  the  merry  laugh,  silent  the  melodi- 
ous song.  Gone  were  the  joyous  young  faces  that 
but  a  short  time  before  had  looked  out  from  the 
vessel  upon  the   sea  and  sky.     Faded  were  the 


I 


ON    DKCK. 


63 


brij2;ht  eyes,  scattered  the  bright  visions  of  enjoy- 
ment.    Alas,  how  changed  ! 

And  now,  as  they  went  on  farther,  the  wind 
grew  fresher,  and  the  waves  grew  rougher,  and 
the  little  schooner  danced  about  like  a  mad  thing ; 
and  the  booms  creaked  against  the  masts,  and  the 
sails  flapped  furiously,  and  the  blast  went  singing 
through  the  rigging.  The  wretched  voyageurs 
paid  no  attention  to  it.  Their  thoughts  were  all 
turned  inward.  Little  did  they  think  now  of  that 
which  they  had  recently  been  celebrating  so  joy- 
ously :  — 

•'  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

A  home  on  the  rolling  deep, 
Where  the  scattered  waters  rave, 
And  the  winds  —  and  the  wi-i-i-i-inds  —  and  the  w-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-nds 
their  re-e-e-e-e-vels  keep !" 

Time  passed,  and  still  the  Antelope  went  tossing, 
and  rolling,  and  pitching  onward.  How  long  a 
time  no  one  knew.  Not  one  of  the  voyageurs  kept 
any  account  of  that.  Whether  minutes  or  hours, 
they  could  not  tell.  It  seemed  to  them  all  one 
long  duration,  involving  days  or  months.  But  at 
last  the  motion  of  the  vessel  ceased,  and  she  went 
on  more  smoothly.  Most  of  the  boys  below  mus- 
tered up  their  courage,  and  began  to  think  of  going 
on  deck  once  more.  Soon  the  joyous  voice  of 
Bart  Damer  summoned  them  up. 

"  Come  along,  boys.  We're  going  to  anchor. 
We're  at  Five  Islands.     Hurrah  !  " 


r" 


64 


TFIH    B.    0.    W.    C. 


',  t 
i 


"  Hiimifi  !     ITnrmli  !  " 

A  loud  cry  arose.  Up  wont  the  boys  Hcramblinf]j 
to  the  (iot'k,  and  tlioro  tlio  sfono  holoro  tlicm  was 
sufficient  to  drive  away  all  suil'ering.  The  water 
was  smooth,  the  wind  was  (luieter.  Before  them 
lay  the  outlines  of  Five  Islands,  risinj^  beautifully 
out  of  the  water  between  them  and  the  main  land, 
the  nearest  one  being  not  more  than  a  mile  away. 
These  islands  were  of  different  and  peculiar 
shapes.  The  two  more  distant  were  rounded  and 
well  wooded  ;  the  third,  which  was  midway  among 
the  group,  had  lofty,  precipitous  sides,  and  the 
summit  was  dome-shaped  ;  the  fourth  was  like  a 
table,  rising,  with  perpendicular  sides,  to  the  height 
of  two  hundred  feet,  with  a  flat,  level  surface  above, 
which  was  all  overgrown  with  forest  trees.  The 
last,  and  nearest  of  the  group,  was  by  far  the  most 
singnlar.  It  was  a  bare  rock,  which  rose  irregu- 
larly from  the  sea,  terminating  at  one  end  in  a  peak, 
which  rose  about  two  hundred  feet  into  the  air. 
As  they  aj)proached  it,  this  rock  had  a  very  peculiar 
appearance.  It  resembled,  more  than  anything 
else,  a  vast  cathedral  rising  out  of  the  sea,  the 
chief  mass  of  the  rock  corresponding  with  the  main 
part  of  the  cathedral,  while  the  tower  and  spire 
were  there  in  all  their  majesty.  For  this  cause  the 
rock  has  received  the  name  of  Pinnacle  Island. 
This  hmely  and  desolate  rock,  that  thus  rose  out 
before  them,  grew  more  distinctly  revealed  as  they 
drew  nearer.     At  the  base  they  saw  the    vvhite 


MR.   RTMMON.S   SPEAKS. 


65 


foam  of  breakiiifii;  surf;  while  far  on  lii^li,  aronn(l 
its  lofty,  tornf)cst-i)eat('n  suinniit,  tliey  saw  myriads 
of  HL'a-f;iills.  (Jatlioriiif;"  in  }j,n;at  wliito  clouds 
about  this  placo,  they  sported  and  chased  one 
another;  they  screamed  and  uttered  their  shrill 
yells,  which  sounded  afar  over  the  sea. 

Nearer  and  nearer  they  came,  till  at  last  they 
reached  a  smootli  place  on  the  lee  of  the  second 
island.  This  one  was  so  close  by  Pinnacle  Island, 
that  it  seemed  as  though  they  mi^ht  be  joined  at 
low  water.  Uefore  them,  within  a  moderate  dis- 
tance, lay  a  gravelled  l)each,  which  extended  as 
far  as  they  could  see  at  the  verge  of  the  island, 
above  which  the  dark  cliil's  towered  precipitously. 

''  There  ! "  said  j\Ir.  Sinnnons,  pointing,  with 
sparkling  eyes,  to  the  dark  and  sombre  rocks, — 
"  there,  boys,  is  the  place  for  minerals  !  I  have 
found  on  those  rocks  the  most  beautiful  spechnens, 
that  have  ever  been  seen,  of  crystals,  of  jasper, 
and  of  chalcedony.  I  have  found  onyx,  spar,  and 
hundreds  of  other  stones  ;  all  kinds  of  agates,  frag- 
ments of  copper  ore,  barytes,  beautiful  petrifactions, 
and  footprints  of  birds  among  masses  of  sandstone. 
From  those  cliffs  came  the  famous  amethyst  that 
was  once  among  tlie  crown  jewels  of  Louis  XV. 
Come,  boys,  be  diligent ;  use  your  eyes,  and  you 
will  find  something  worth  remembering.  David 
Digg,  don't  forget  your  hammers." 

His  enthusiastic  speech  was  interrupted  by  a 
loud  shout  from  Captain  Corbet, 


66 


THE   B.    O.   W.    C. 


i 


"  Let  go  !  "  he  crierl. 

Down  came  the  sails  ;  and  shortly  after,  rattle — 
rattle  —  rattle  —  rattle,  and  with  a  plunge  and  a 
splash,  the  anchor  rushed  to  the  sea  bottom. 

"  And  now  for  the  boats,"  said  Mr.  Long. 

The  boat  was  brought  up  alongside.  It  was 
short,  wide,  and  round,  and  appeared  to  have  been 
constructed  after  the  identical  tub  which  had  evi- 
dently served  as  a  model  for  the  Antelope.  There 
was  but  one  oar,  which  was  used  to  propel  the 
boat  by  sculling.  Not  more  than  five  or  six  could 
get  into  her  with  safety. 

"  We  can't  all  go  ashore  in  that,"  said  Mr.  Sim- 
mons. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Captain  Corbet. 

"  Why,  she  won't  hold  us." 

"  Yes,  she  will." 

"  0,  no." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  persisted  Captain  Corbet. 
*^  Of  course  you  don't  all  mean  to  go  at  once." 

"  0,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Simmons,  whose  mathe- 
matical mind  began  to  grasp  the  solution  of  the 
difficult  problem.  "  You'll  make  two  or  three  trips 
with  her." 

"  Of  course." 

"  0,  that  quite  alters  the  case." 

"  Bless  your  heart,  of  course  it  does." 

'^  Will  we  want  any  provisions  ?  "  asked  Baru 

"  Provisions  !     What  for  ?  " 

"  Are  we  going  to  camp  out  ?  " 


THEY   DISEMBARK. 


67 


•'!! 
■^ 


"  0,  no.  We'll  return  to  the  vessel.  But  pro- 
visions !  0,  yes,  we'll  want  a  lunch  ashore,  of 
course." 

And  now  began  the  process  of  disembarkation. 
Messrs.  Sinnnons  and  Long,  with  two  boys,  went 
first.  A  number  of  baskets  of  provisions  were 
thrown  in,  and  the  mate  sculled  them  ashore. 

On  his  return  five  more  boys  were  ready.  The 
-'  B.  0.  W.  C."  generously  waited  till  the  last.  The 
loss  of  their  hats  had  been  a  sore  grievance,  but 
the  handkerchiefs  were  not  a  bad  substitute.  Bart 
had  his  pistol  in  his  belt,  and  a  sailor's  knife. 
Bruce  Kawdon  had  a  l)eautiful  little  hatchet.  The 
others  had  knives.  AVhen  the  boat  returned,  they 
were  quite  worn  out  witls  impatience,  and  were 
almost  ready  to  jump  overboard  and  swim  ashore. 
But  their  time  of  waiting  ended  at  last,  and  the 
boat  landed  them  on  the  gravelly  beach. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  when  the  party  landed 
on  the  island,  "^riicy  had  started  at  ten,  three 
hours  before  high  tide.  The  tide  was  therefore 
already  beginning  to  turn,  and  would  of  course 
continue  to  run  out  till  seven  or  eight.  On  this 
account,  the  schooner  could  not  come  any  nearer 
for  fear  of  being  stranded.  As  tliey  did  not  intend 
to  pass  the  night  on  the  island,  it  was  necessary, 
at  all  hazards,  to  keep  the  vessel  afloat.  C^iptain 
Corbet  had  selected  a  place  where  he  knew  the 
vessel  could  ride  at  all  til  .  of  tide  ;  and  though 
it  was  inconveniently  distant,  yet  it  was  the  only 


68 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


place  for  her  under  the  circumstances.  Mr.  Sim- 
mona  had  told  Captain  Corbet  that  he  would  leave 
the  island  in  tliree  hours,  after  which  the  schooner 
was  to  sail  to  a  port  a  few  miles  off  on  the  main 
land,  and  anchor  for  the  night.  He  had  also  taken 
care  to  let  all  the  boys  understand  these  arrange- 
ments perfectly,  and  had  warned  them  not  to  be 
too  far  away  when  the  hour  for  leaving  might 
come. 

As  the  last  of  the  passengers  landed,  they  walked 
about  the  beach,  looking  up  at  the  gigantic  cliffs, 
picking  up  tlie  stones  and  shells,  and  exulting  in 
the  novelty  of  their  situation.  The  island  was 
about  half  a  mile  long,  and  about  half  that  width. 
The  beach  Avas  narrow  ;  and  the  boys  began  to 
look,  with  longing  eyes,  to  the  summit  of  the 
island.  In  their  wanderings  they  came  across  their 
companions.  Mr.  Simmons,  followed  by  Bogud, 
was  busy  at  the  rocks  in  one  place.  Mr.  Long, 
with  Billymack,  was  working  away  near  him.  The 
baskets  lay  open,  and  all  could  help  themselves 
to  lunch.  After  satisfying  their  hunger,  the 
"  B.  O.  W.  C."  quickly  determined  to  explore  the 
island  thoroughly,  with  the  hope  of  finding  a  way 
to  the  top.  With  this  intention  they  started  ofi", 
and  at  length  found  a  place  which  seemed  to 
promise  what  they  desired.  It  was  at  the  end 
nearest  to  Pinnacle  Island.  A  torrent  had  made  a 
rough  pathway  for  itself  in  that  place,  and  though 
the  atones  were  somewhat  insecure,  yet  it  seemed 
safe  enough  for  active  lads. 


THEY   CLIMB   THE   SUMMIT. 


69 


Up  tills  place,  then,  they  tried  to  cllmh.  Tlkc 
footing  was  very  insecure,  the  loose  stones  con- 
stantly rolling  down,  and  making  it  dangerous  lor 
one  to  go  behind  another.  It  was  so  steep  that 
they  had  to  climb  with  hands  as  well  as  feet.  They 
clutched  the  roots  of  trees,  the  long,  tough  grasses, 
and  the  thick  ferns.  Thus  pulling,  pushing,  clutch- 
ing, dodging  stones,  and  forcing  a  way  up  through 
ail  difficulties,  they  managed  to  scramble  to  the 
summit. 


I 


70 


THE   B.    0.    W.   C. 


Y. 


Exploring  a  desert  Idand.  —  TumhUng  over  a 
Cliff.  —  Peril  of  Bruce.  —  A  mad  Row  over  the 
Waves.  —  Adrift  in  the  Fog. 


#' 


N  reaching  the  summit,  the  triumphant 
climbers  gave  vent  to  their  feelings  in  loud 
shouts.  Looking  out  from  their  lofty  perch, 
a  magnificent  scene  unfolded  itself  before  their 
eyes.  There  was  the  broad  expanse  of  water.  In 
the  distance,  a  kind  of  haze  rested  over  the  hills, 
which,  to  experienced  eyes,  would  have  been  sig- 
nificant of  an  approaching  fog,  but  it  gave  no  such 
warning  to  them.  There  rose  Blomidon,  always 
the  supreme  monarch  of  the  scene.  Around  them 
were  clustered  the  other  islands  ;  and  here,  directly 
opposite  them,  and  beneath  them,  was  Pinnacle 
Island,  with  its  cloud  of  screaming  gulls.  Yet  it 
was  not  to  these,  or  to  any  one  of  these,  that  the 
eyes  of  the  boys  were  most  attracted.  There, 
beneath  them,  lay  another  object,  which  had  for 
them  a  greater  charm.  It  was  tlie  Antelope. 
There  she  swung  at  her  anchor,  wliile  ever  and 
anon  the  passing  breeze,  as  it  came  by,  swept  out 


I   ' 


EXPLORATIONS. 


71 


the  folds  of  the  black  flag,  from  which  that  benevo- 
lent face,  which  it  bore,  seemed  to  look  np  at  them 
witli  a  grin  of  welcome,  encouragement,  and  sym- 
pathy. 

It  was  another  proud  moment  for  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C." 
After  feasting  their  eyes  on  this  fascinating  flag, 
they  all  started  off  to  explore  the  island.  There 
was  not  nmch  to  explore ;  but  what  there  was, 
proved  difKcult.  The  trees  grew  densely,  interla- 
cing their  branches,  while  beneath  them  was  a  thick 
growth  of  underbrush  and  ferns.  Fallen  trunks, 
some  fresh  fallen,  others  half  rotted,  intercepted 
them  at  every  step  ;  and  they  had  to  climb  over 
them  or  crawl  under.  Progress  was  extremely 
difficult,  and  a  good  lialf  hour  was  occupied  in 
going  from  one  end  of  the  island  to  the  other. 
Here  they  rested  for  a  while,  looking  frcmi  the  edge 
of  the  cliff  down  the  precipice  into  the  sea.  Then 
they  began  to  return,  keeping  along  the  edge  of 
the  island,  where  tlie  trees  and  the  underbrush  were 
not  so  dense.  Beneath  they  could  see  Messrs. 
Simmons  and  Long  diligently  hammering  away. 
Scattered  along  the  beach  were  the  other  boys. 
In  the  air,  abreast  of  them,  the  sea-gulls  darted 
about  with  hoarse  screams.  One  huge  fellow 
flew  straight  toward  them,  without  seeing  them, 
carrying  a  fish  in  his  claws.  The  sight  of  them  so 
frightened  him,  that  he  dropped  the  fish,  and  flew 
ofi'  with  a  harsh  shriek.  On  picking  up  the  fish, 
they  found  it  yet  possessed  of  much  vigor.     Bruce 


m 


1 1      I 


('     •■':'. 


\    i! 


i! 


72 


THE   B.   0.    W.   C. 


took  it  and  hurled  it  far  out,  and  watched  it  to  see 
where  it  would  fall.  It  struck  its  own  native  ele- 
ment, into  which  it  sank ;  and  the  boys  generously 
hoped  that  it  was  able  to  resume  its  life,  which  had 
been  interrupted  by  so  wonderful  a  transition 
into  the  world  of  air. 

So  they  wandered  along,  finding  their  way  here 
much  easier,  and  from  time  to  time  stopping  to 
examine  some  object  of  interest,  to  dart  into  the 
woods  after  something  that  attracted  their  atten- 
tion, or  to  lean  over  the  cliff,  and  let  stones  fall, 
and  watch  them  as  they  fell  straight  down,  far 
down,  till  they  struck  the  beach  below. 

By  and  by  they  became  scattered.  Phil  Kennedy 
and  Tom  Crawford  had  gone  across  the  island. 
Arthur  and  Bart  were  walking  on,  and  Bruce  lin^ 
gered  behind  to  try  and  find  a  gull's  nest,  which 
seemed  to  be  somewhere  over  the  edge  of  the  cliff. 
He  lay  down,  and  bent  far  over,  and  at  length  saw 
what  he  suspected.  The  gull  that  was  on  the  nest 
flew  away  in  affright,  as  she  saw  the  face  peering 
at  her,  and  Bruce  determined  to  seize  the  eggs. 
But  how  could  he  ?  The  nest  was  out  of  his  reach. 
He  scrutinized  the  place  narrowly,  and  at  last  con- 
cluded that  it  could  be  done.  About  three  fieet 
beneath  him  was  a  projecting  rock.  On  this  he 
could  stand  ;  and  holding  on  to  the  root  of  a  tree 
at  the  edge  of  the  cliff  with  one  hand,  he  could 
extend  his  other  hand  far  enough  to  touch  the  nest. 
All  this  ho   saw,  and  at  once  began  to  make  the 


OVER   THE    CLIFF. 


73 


■I 

If 
■3 


attempt.  The  erlgo  of  the  clifT  was  rocky,  and 
hung  over  a  foot  beyond  the  precipice ;  the  pro- 
jecting rock  below  did  not  come  out  so  far.  About 
five  feet  back,  a  tree  grew,  one  of  the  roots  of 
whicli  had  projected  itself  forward,  and  crooked 
itself  along  the  edge,  and  the  earth  having  been 
blown  away,  it  was  now  exposed.  This  root  Bruce 
grasped ;  and  lowering  himself  over  the  edge,  ho 
let  himself  down  till  his  feet  touched  the  shelf; 
then  lowering  himself  still  more,  he  prepared  to 
reach  out  his  hand. 

But  at  that  instant  a  thrill  of  horror  shot  through 
every  nerve.  The  shelf  on  whicli  he  was  standing 
seemed  slowly  to  sink  beneath  him.  Well  for  him 
was  it  at  that  monient  that  he  had  not  lowered  him- 
self fxrther,  and  that  there  had  not  vet  been  time 
to  extend  his  arm  to  the  nest.  The  thrill  of  horror 
transfixed  him.  He  sprang  up,  and  grasped  the 
root  with  both  hands.  The  next  instant  the  shelf 
crumbled  away,  and  his  feet  hung  idly  in  the  empty 
air.  A  wild  shriek  sounded  out  —  a  shriek  of 
mortal  terror,  that  sent  an  icy  chill  to  the  heart  of 
Bart  and  Arthur,  and  brought  them  back  in  mad 
anxiety  and  fear. 

Far  below,  Mr.  Simmons  had  been  busily  ham- 
mering at  the  cliffs.  His  basket  was  filled  with 
unusually  fine  specimens,  and  he  haa  just  turned 
to  send  off  Bogud  with  this  basket  to  the  landing- 
place.  He  was  just  in  the  midst  of  some  directions 
about  a  peculiar  hammer  which  he  wanted,  when 


i 


.«! 


74 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


I  ! 


i      -li 


Jl       i 


i       \ 

!  s 


i   't 


suddenly  an  immense  mass  of  rock  came  tlmndering 
down,  and  buried  itself  in  the  gravel,  not  ten  feet 
in  front  of  him.  Mr.  Simmons  started  back,  and 
rushed  far  out  from  the  treacherous  precipice. 
Looking  up  with  a  white  face,  he  sought  to  see  the 
place  from  which  the  rock  had  fallen. 

He  looked  up.  A  deeper,  deadlier  pallor  came 
to  his  fiice ;  big  drops  started  from  his  forehead;  a 
shriek  escaped  him. 

"  0,  God  !     Who  is  it  ?  "  he  groaned. 

For  there  on  the  edge,  grasping  the  tree-root 
with  both  hands,  hung  the  figure  of  a  boy  writhing 
as  he  sought  to  find  some  place  for  a  foothold 
against  the  rock.  Two  figures  were  bending  over. 
By  the  red  shirts  which  all  wore,  he  knew  that  the 
one  in  danger  must  be  one  of  those  five  that  had 
dressed  themselves  in  this  way.  But  which  of 
them  it  was,  he  could  not  tell. 

His  shriek  roused  others.  Mr.  Long  came  hur- 
rying there,  and  the  other  boys,  all  looking  up 
with  eyes  of  horror  and  ashen  lips.  The  moments 
of  that  suspense  were  agony. 

There  was  nothing  that  they  could  do.  Mr.  Long 
alone  tried  to  do  something.  I^^tarting  oif  at  full 
speed,  he  ran  on,  trying  to  find  a  place  to  scale  the 
cliff.  Gradually  a  few  others  followed.  But  the 
rest  thought  it  was  of  no  use,  and  awaited  the  end 
in  voiceless  horror. 

Meanwhile  Bruce  Rawdon  had  clung  to  the 
root,  shriekiiig  for  help,  and  trying  to  find  some 


THE    RESCUE. 


75 


resting-place  for  liis  feet.  In  vain  he  tried.  Tlie 
precipice  retreated  inward,  and  the  shelf  that  had 
fallen  left  a  deeper  hollow  behind.  Almost  sense- 
less with  the  horror  of  his  situation,  lie  was  con- 
scions  of  nothing  but  the  fact  that  friends  were 
near ;  and  for  these  he  shouted,  clinging  desperately 
to  tiie  root  of  the  tree.  Another  boy  might  have 
fallen ;  but  Bruce 's  muscles  had  been  toughened 
by  all  kinds  of  manly  exercise,  and  he  had  in  him 
the  germ  and  the  promise  of  mighty  strength  and 
stature. 

The  shriek  that  roused  Arthur  and  Bart  was 
followed  by  others,  which  led  them  speedily  to  the 
place. 

With  a  groan  Arthur  flung  himself  down,  and 
grasped  his  brother  by  tlie  wrist.  Bart  took  a 
swift  glance  around.  A  small  tree  was  growing 
near  the  edge.  Twining  his  sinewy  legs  around 
this,  lie  bent  his  body  over  the  precipice,  and 
caught  Bruce  by  the  waistband.  Then,  clutching 
the  tree  with  his  legs,  he  made  a  mighty  effort  to 
raise  Bruce.  The  latter,  in  the  mean  while,  had 
seized  Arthur,  who  was  also  trying  to  raise  him. 
But  Arthur  had  not  a  fair  chance  to  exert  his 
full  strength,  and  so  they  prevailed  but  little 
against  the  dead  weight  which  they  were  trying 
to  lift. 

"  Arthur  !  "  cried  Bart. 

"  Well." 

"  Can   you  catch  hold  of  this   tree   where   my 


76 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


1 1  - 


Mi 


U     ! 


m  ,ii 


legs  are  ?  Hold  it  with  one  Land,  and  then  you 
can  pull  better  with  your  other.     Can  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes.     I've  got  hold." 

"  Now  then." 

With  a  tremendous  effort,  both  boys  pulled 
together.  The  slender  tree  bent  beneath  their 
efforts.  But  the  weight  was  raised !  Yes  !  0, 
thank  God  !  higher — higher!  There  was  Bruce's 
head  at  the  edge,  and  now  his  shoulders.  And 
now  he  himself,  by  a  last,  despairing,  convulsive 
effort,  had  flung  himself  forward,  and  was  on  the 
rock.  They  dragged  him  forward.  Ho  was 
saved. 

Arthur  burst  into  tears,  and  held  Bruce  in  his 
arms.  Bart  rushed  off  for  water.  Returning  in  a 
few  minutes  with  his  leathern  cup,  —  which  he 
always  carried,  —  full  of  cold  water,  he  gave  it  to 
Bruce.  The  fainting  boy  drank  it,  and  then  drew 
a  long  breath. 

"  God  bless  you,  boys  1  "  he  said  at  last,  wring- 
ing the  hand  of  each.  He  would  have  said  more, 
but  he  could  not. 

"  I'll  be  all  right  presently,"  said  he,  taking  a 
long  breath.  ''  My  heart  feels  painful ; "  and  he 
pressed  his  hand  against  his  breast.  "  Don't 
bother  any  more,  Bart.  I'm  coming  round  fast. 
Just  let's  sit  here,  and  be  quiet  for  a  little  while." 

They  sat  there  in  silence  for  some  time ;  and 
gradually  the  color  began  to  come  back  to  Bruce's 
face. 


GRATITUDE.. 


77 


r^ 


<n(l(loiily  the  crackling  of  hnislnvood  w.ih  heard, 
a-kt  Mr.  Loup,'  came  niniiing  up  to  them,  his  face 
as  pale  as  death,  and  his  eyes  round  with  the 
horror  of  a  frightful  susj)ense.  The  moment  ho 
saw  the  little  group,  he  flung  himself  on  his  knees 
by  Bruce,  and,  catching  him  in  his  arms,  he  kissed 
him  again  and  again. 

"  Thank  God  !  0,  thank  God  1  "  he  moaned,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

Hitherto  Mr.  Long  had  the  reputation,  among 
the  boys,  of  being  a  hard,  unfeeling  man;  but  from 
that  moment  this  opinion  was  changed. 

Mr.  Long  said  nothing  more  at  that  time,  partly 
because  he  did  not  wish  to  distress  Bruce  by  any 
questions  just  then,  and  partly  because  he  was  so 
faint,  from  the  tremendous  rush  up  the  cliff,  that 
he  could  not  speak.  Li  fact,  for  a  time  he  seemed 
as  much  broken  as  Bruce.  So  they  sat  quietly 
togetlier  waiting.  ^ 

Mr.  Long's  elfort  was  a  desperate  one,  but  the 
only  thing  to  be  done.  It  is  possible  that  Bart  and 
Arthur,  if  they  could  not  have  drawn  up  Bruce, 
might  have  held  him  there  for  a  long  time,  and  in 
that  case  Mr.  Long  would  have  been  there  to  save 
him. 

After  about  an  hour,  Bruce  said  he  was  all  right, 
and  they  walked  toward  the  place  of  descent.  It 
seemed,  indeed,  as  though  he  had  got  over  his 
accident.  He  said  his  arms  ached  a  little,  and 
there  was  a  slight  pain  in  his  breast,  but  that  it 


78 


THE   B.    0.    VV.    C. 


II 


!!:  f  i^:!i 


ill 


was  passinp^  away.  Tlio  doscont  was  toilsome,  l)ut 
Bruce  uccoinplisliod  it  as  well  as  any  of  tliein. 
By  the  time  he  reached  the  shore,  he  declared 
himself  ])erfectly  well. 

Mr.  Simmons  was  there  to  meet  him.  He  wriin^ 
his  hand  veiy  earnestly,  with  tearful  eyes,  but  did 
not  trust  himself  to  speak.  Then  B'uce  told  al^ 
about  it,  and  the  excitement  of  this  adventure  puo 
an  end  to  all  further  search  for  minerals. 

At  length  five  o'clock  came,  and  they  prepared 
to  go  back  to  the  schooner.  The  tide  had  fallen 
considerably,  and  a  strong  current  was  running- 
past  them.  The  water  was  not  so  placid  as  it  had 
been,  but  was  getting  broken  up,  and  somewhat 
rough.  The  wind  had  changed,  and  was  blowing 
more  freshly  than  before.  There  were  also  gather- 
ing fog  banks,  which  were  drawing  nearer  every 
moment,  and  threatening  soon  to  be  around  them. 
All  things  showed,  therefore,  that  it  was  high  time 
to  retire.  Signals  were  made,  and  before  long 
they  saw  the  boat  leave  the  schooner,  and  come  to 
the  shore. 

On  landing,  the  mate  wanted  to  know  if  any  of 
them  could  scull  a  boat.  Bruce  said  that  he  could, 
and  so  did  Arthur  and  Bart.  The  mate  said  that 
he  wanted  to  stay  aboard  to  get  the  sails  ready ; 
and  to  save  time,  it  would  be  necessary  for  some 
one  of  them  to  bring  the  last  boat  aboard.  Each 
one  of  these  three  offered  to  scull  her  ;  but  it  was 
at  last  decided  that  Arthur  should  go  in  the  second 


AFLOAT    AdAIX. 


70 


hoixt  and  l)riiig  lier  bai'k,  wliilc  linicc  sliould  take 
the  last  load.  Bart  readily  ^ave  up  his  claim  to 
the  others  ;  and  so  it  was  arranged. 

"  But  are  you  sure  ^  )u're  strong  enough  for 
that  ?  "  srtid  Mr.  Long. 

"  Strong  ?  Of  course."  said  Bruce.  "  I'm 
stronger  thwn  ever,  sir." 

So  the  first  boat  started  with  the  same  load 
which  it  had  wlien  landing  before,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  one  boy  more.  The  next  boat  took  Arthur 
and  four  more  boys,  leaving  Bruce,  and  Tom,  and 
Phil,  and  Bart. 

About  an  hout  had  passed  between  the  time 
wlien  the  boat  left  to  take  them  from  the  island 
and  the  time  when  Arthur  brought  it  back  for  the 
last  trip.  In  that  hour  many  changes  had  taken 
place.  The  tide  had  fallen  farther.  Between  the 
beach,  where  they  stood,  and  Pinnacle  Island,  the 
rocks  were  laid  bare,  and  could  be  traversed  on 
foot.  Between  the  schooner  and  the  shore,  a  swift 
current  was  running,  which  grew  stronger  every 
moment.  By  six  o'clock  the  current  was  very 
powerful.  The  mate,  on  his  second  trip,  had  con- 
siderable difficulty  in  getting  to  the  schooner  ;  tu  d 
he  had  given  very  careful  directions  to  Arthur  as 
to  the  course  which  he  should  go  in  returning. 

"  You  must  head  the  boat  farther  up,"  said  he, 
*'  so  as  to  strike  the  schooner  fair.  I  didn't  cal'late 
right  about  that  there  tide.  You've  got  to  head 
your  boat  well  off  that  side,  and  then  the  tide  'II 
help  you  instead  of  henderin'." 


t  > 


i! 


80 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


"  All  rip;ht,"  said  Artliur. 

In  going  ashore,  ho  fbiind  the  current  ver}) 
'Strong ;  but  the  beach  was  long,  and,  of  course,  it 
was  very  easy  to  land  somewhere.  As  it  happened, 
he  was  carried  down  some  fifty  feet  below  the  place 
which  he  wished  to  reach ;  but  that  didn't  make 
any  practical  difference.  It  served  to  open  his 
eyes  to  the  peculiar  danger  before  them,  and  made 
him  see  that  the  very  greatest  care  would  have  to 
be  exercised  in  returning,  or  else  the  swift  tide 
would  sweep  them  away  from  the  place  to  which 
they  wished  to  go. 

As  Arthur  looked  round,  after  the  other  boys 
had  got  in,  an  exclap^'ition  burst  from  him. 

'^  Whew  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  fog.  How  suddenly  it  has  come  up  ! 
Why,  it's  getting  as  thick  as  night.  Look  here, 
Bruce ;  we've  got  to  be  pretty  careful  this  time. 
See  here  ;  you  must  head  out  that  way,  for  the  cur- 
rent is  running  like  a  race-horse,  and  this  fog  isn't 
helping  matters." 

He  then  proceeded  to  explain  to  Bruce  the  best 
coarse  to  take,  and  Bruce  said  he  would  do  exactly 
as  he  told  him. 

"  You're  sure  you  can  do  it.  You're  sure  you're 
not  used  up  at  all,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  "  said  Bruce,  with  a  laugh. 
"  If  I  feel  used  up,  I'll  hand  over  the  oar  to  you  or 
Bart." 


THE   BOAT   IN   PET?TL. 


81 


Saying  this,  he  worked  away  with  vigorou? 
pushes,  and  the  boat  moved  in  the  direction  indi' 
cated  by  Arthur. 

Bruce  soon  found  tliat  Artlnir  liad  not  exag- 
gerated the  force  of  the  current.  It  seemed  to 
drag  the  boat  sidewise  with  fearful  power.  But 
a  strong  hand  was  at  tlie  scull,  and  tlie  boat's 
course  was  true,  and  every  moment  brought  them 
nearer. 

As  they  went,  the  fog  grow  thicker  at  every 
foot.  The  wind  blew  more  strongly,  and  the  water 
grew  rougher,  making  the  progress  of  the  clumsy 
boat  more  difficult.  Soon  the  shore  grew  in- 
distinct ;  but  this  they  did  not  regard,  since  their 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  schooner,  to  which  they 
drew  steadily  nearer.  There,  on  board,  stood  the 
other  boys  ;  and  JVIr.  Simmons  was  talking  to  Cap- 
tain Corbet,  and  Mr.  Long  was  watching  them  with 
some  anxietv.  The  mate  stood  near  the  bow  with 
a  rope,  ready  to  throw  as  soon  as  they  should  come 
within  reach. 

But  though  near  enough  to  see  all  this,  they 
could  not  hOj^a  to  get  there  yet  without  a  severe 
ettbrt.  For  now  the  larther  out  they  wenc,  the 
stronger  grew  the  current  ;  and  Bruce  felt  a 
heavier  drag  against  the  boat,  and  gathered  up  his 
strength  for  sterner  exertions.  He  took  a  hasty 
look  at  the  schooner,  so  as  to  get  her  bearings,  and 
then  headed  the  boat  at  a  sharper  angle  against 
the  current.  This  was  admirably  calculated  ;  and 
6 


82 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


I 


now  the  boat  fell  off  less,  and  seemed  to  work  itself 
steadily  toward  the  schooner. 

Arthur  was  in  the  bows,  anxiously  watching  the 
boat's  course.  The  other  boys  sat  in  silence,  con- 
scious of  i\iG  hazard  before  them,  but  facing  it 
bravely.  On  board  the  schooner  not  a  word  was 
spoken.  Mr.  Long's  face  seemed  to  grow  more 
anxious.  His  hands  clutched  one  another  Avith  a 
rigid  grasp,  and  his  eyes  seemed  fastened  on 
Bruce.  Tlie  mate  stood  with  his  rope,  not  ventur- 
ing to  make  any  suggestion,  for  he  saw  that  Bruce 
was  doing  all  that  could  be  done.  His  forehead 
was  contracted  into  a  painful  frown,  and  he  was 
whistling  softly  to  himself  (from  a  habit  that  he 
had  acquired),  and  which,  in  him,  was  a  sign  of 
grave  perplexity  of  soul. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  boat ;  but  the  anx- 
ious watchers  began  to  see  that  the  current  was 
swerving  them  off  more  rapidly  than  they  had  ex- 
pected, and  that  the  angle  of  the  boat's  drift  would 
lie  not  so  near  as  they  hoped.  Bruce  saw  this, 
and  summoned  up  a  new  force  out  of  his  strong 
muscles.  A  few  mighty  strokes,  and  something 
was  gained  even  against  the  pressure  of  that 
tremendous  current.  There  was  the  schooner. 
On  —  on  ;  nearer  —  nearer. 

They  had  hoped  to  touch  her  bow  ;  but  now 
they  saw  it  would  be  well  if  they  could  get  near 
her  stern.  Back  ran  tlie  mate  with  his  rope.  Not 
a  word  was  spoken.     No  one  ventured  to  call  for 


THEY    MISS    THE    ROPE. 


83 


greater  exertions  from  tliat  brave,  strong  boy,  wlio 
was  plying  his  oar  so  miglitily.  And  now  the  mo- 
ment liad  come.  Forward  sprang  the  mate,  and 
the  rope  s])ed  tlirongh  tlie  air.  Artlmr's  liands 
were  extended  to  seize  it.  Bruce  did  not  al)ate 
one  stroke,  but  worked  with  desperate  energy. 
The  boat  was  borne  past  the  schooner's  quarter. 
The  rope  touched  Arthur's  right  hand, — his  fingers 
closed  around  it. 

Alas  !  it  was  but  the  extreme  end  of  the  rope 
that  he  held  ;  and  before  his  t)ther  hand  could 
seize  it,  it  had  slipped  through  his  fingers,  and  fell 
into  the  water. 

"  How,  row,  Bruce  !     I've  dropped  the  rope  !  " 

A  groan  burst  from  Bruce.  He  gave  three  tre- 
mendous strokes.  They  were  the  last  efforts  of 
despairing  energy.  As  he  moved  his  arms  to  make 
the  fourth,  he  staggered  back.  The  oar  fell  from 
his  nerveless  grasp.  He  sank  down,  with  a  groan, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

"  Boys,  I  —  I'm  dying  !  " 

Gasping  out  these  wol'ds,  Bruce  closed  his  eyes, 
and  lav  motionless. 

A  cry  of  dismay  and  terror  burst  from  the 
schooner.  Pallid  faces,  and  eyes  of  horror,  were 
turned  toward  the  boat,  which  ^^ow,  hurled  on  by 
the  swift  current,  was  borne  farther  and  farther 
away,  until  at  last  it  vanished  from  view  in  the 
fog. 


!i    ^ 


fi  ^'"' 


84 


THE  n.  0.  w.  a 


VI. 


Up  Anchor  cuid  (iflvr  tlicin.  —  Blast  of  the  Fofj- 
Horn.  —  A  Ioikj  /Search  amid  Mists ^  and  Dark- 
itesSj  and  Storms. 


y 


\%i 


I 


'S  tli(>  boat  drifted  away  from  tlio  schooner, 
lioiTor  ior  a  time  seemed  to  lia\'e  struck 
dumbness  into  all  on  board.  From  this 
stii])or  Mr.  Ijon_<j,"  was  the  iirst   to  rouse   himself 

''  Captain/'  he  cried,  '^  \vc;  must  up  sail  and  after 
tliem." 

"  Which  way  shall  we  iio?"' 

'^  After  them  any  way.  Follow  the  poor  lads  be- 
fore they  g-et  any  farther.  Come,  boys,  \\\>  with 
the  anchor  !     Corbet,  up  with  your  sails  !  " 

The  way  that  anchor  was  walked  up  was  a  won- 
der. In  an  increclibly  short  space  of  time  the 
schooner  was  dashing-  through  the  water,  swej)t  on 
by  wind  and  tide. 

"Which  way  does  this  current  take  us?''  asked 
Mr.  Long. 

'*  Well,  right  round  tlie  island,  and  down  to  Blo- 
midon,  and  then  out  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy." 

*'  1  can't  see  the  island." 


IX    TIIK    F(t(;. 


8.') 


''Xo;  tlio  r(),L:''s  too  lliick  ;  I»ut  it's  ri^'lit  ofTthon^/' 
said  (  a[)taiii  Corbet,  waving  his  left  iiaixl. 

^' I  8U})|H)so  the  poor  lads  couldn't  work  ashore.'' 

"  Not  with  their  hare  hands.  Their  our's  gone 
—  that's  the  mischief  of  it." 

j\Ii-,  Fiong  looked  gloomily  around. 

"The  only  thing,  then,  is  lor  us  to  follow  on 
Avhere  they  may  be  drifting." 

"You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,  sir.  There's 
iiothin'  else  for  us  —  not  a  hooter." 

"  riow  far  is  the  main  land  from  ht're?" 

"  Several  miles." 

"Does  the  current  strike^  near  it  anywhere?" 

"No,  sir!  It  goes  straight  in  a  bee  line  for 
Blomidon." 

"After  leaving  this  island,  then,  Blomidon  is  the 
nearest  land  for  them." 

"  Yes,  or  Parrsboro'." 

"How  long  will  it  take  them  to  drift  there?" 

"  About  three  hours." 

"How  far  will  they  be  likely  to  drift?" 

"  Let  me  see.  It's  seven  o'clock  now.  It's  nearly 
dead  low  tide.  It'll  be  on  the  Hood  soon,  and  by 
the  time  them  there  lads  get  to  Jilomidon,  there'll 
be  a  Hood  tide." 

"And  how  will  that  be  for  them?" 

"It'll  drift  'em  back." 

"  In  which  direction?" 

"  Wal,  sir,  it  would  take  a  man  with  a  head  as 
long  us  a  lioss,  tail  and  all,  to  answer  that  thcro 


r 


{{ '.:' 


P 


86 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


'4-' 


li'i 


pint.  Lor'  l»loss  you,  in  this  iierc  \r,\y  tliuro'e^  no 
knowin'  wiiui'i'  tlio  tide  '11  drift  a  man." 

"  If  it  weren't  for  tlie  log,  there'd  be  no  danger," 
said  i\Ir.  Long,  nnisingly. 

"  TJiat  there's  an  ondeniable  fact,  at  any  rate." 

"Do  you  think  the  fog  will  continue?'' 

Captain  Corhet  sci'ewed  his  head  round  in  the 
direction  of  the  wind,  and  drew  up  his  lace  into  u 
most  extraordiuai'v  grimace. 

"  Well,  1  rayther  tbink,"  said  he,  slowly,  ''  that 
you've  got  me  there." 

"  You  don't  know,  then,  anything  about  it,"  said 
Mr.  Long,  impatiently. 

"  Not  a  hootiM'.'' 

Mr.  Long  walked  away,  and  looked  mournfully 
out  over  the  dim  sea. 

Deep  sadness  and  sore  anxiety  now  reigned  over 
the  little  vessel.  Mr.  Simmons  said  not  a  word,  hut 
sat  staring  fixedly  at  the  fog.  The  boys  stood  in 
silent  grouj)s.     Not  a-  word  was  si)oken. 

^Ir.  Long  walked  forward  to  the  bows,  and  looked 
out.  The  wind  was  increasing,  and  the  sea  was 
growing  rougher.  Evening  was  })assing  away, 
night  would  come  —  and  then,  what!  To  think 
of  those  poor  lads  in  the  boat  was  anguish.  Ho 
walked  back  again  to  Captain  Corbet. 

"  Where  are  we  now  '.^  " 

*'  AVal,  we're  just  roundin'  the  island." 

"  I  can't  see  it." 

''No,  I  have  to  give  Ikm-  a  wide  berth.  It's  low 
tide,  and  the  ledges  are  dangerous." 


THE   CHASE. 


87 


"  Do  you  think  tlio  boat  may  be  drifting  out  here, 
j)r  nearer  in  slioro?" 

''  Wal,  a(3Cordin'  to  niy  cariation,  tliey'd  oughtor 
1)0  out  here  somowliero.  Jedgin'  by  tlio  direction 
the  boat  took,  1  should  say  [  was  lollowin'  pooty 
close  in  their  track,  though  there's  no  knowin'  for 
sartin." 

"  Oughtn't  we  to  \)Q  up  to  them  by  this  time?" 

"  )Val,  1  don't  know.  You  saw  the  pace  they 
went  off  at.  Geeracious  I  Talk  of  race-hosses  I 
Why,  that  boat  went  otf  at  a  rate  to  beat  all  crea- 
tion holler !  " 

"  ]>ut  we're  going  faster.  We  liave  the  same 
current,  and  we've  got  sails  up." 

"  Never  a  truer  word  ;  but  then  it  took  some  time 
for  us  to  get  a  start,  and  in  that  time,  graci(m.  ony 
knows  where  they've  got  to.  The  ony  thing  th;  t 
we've  got  to  do,  as  I  can  see,  is  to  keep  follerin'  our 
noses  right  straight  on,  and  keep  in  the  current." 

Suddenly  a  thought  struck  Mr.  Long.  Ihishing 
down  into  the  cabii>,  he  returned  with  a  fog-horn, 
and  raising  it  to  his  lips,  blew  a  long,  piercing 
blast. 

"  That'll  fetch  'em,  if  anything  does,"  said  Cap. 
tain  Corbet. 

"  Silence  !  "  cried  Mr.  Long,  listening  intently, 
while  all  others  on  board  stood  listenijig  for  the 
return  cry. 

But  no  sound  came  back. 

"They've  got  a  pistol,  and  if  they  hear  us,  they 
would  fire.     Have  you  a  gun,  captain?" 


l\\ '" 


88 


THK    IJ.    O.    \V.    C. 


Mi 


I   I 


.'; 


"  Nary  p^im." 

"  'J'liis  lioi'iij  tlion,  is  tlie  l)est  thiiir^.  Sliontinoj 
is  of  no  use/'  said  Mr.  Long;  and  lio  blew  another 
blast. 

Aj^ain  tlioy  listened,  and  ar>-ain  tbore  was  no  re- 
sponse. Tu  their  waiting  ears,  as  they  listened  in 
an  anguish  vi'  expoetation,  there  came  no  answer- 
ing cry,  no  sliont,  no  ])istol  shot  —  nothing  but  the 
plash  of  Avaves  near  by,  the  singing  of  the  wind 
through  the  I'igging,  and  the  boom  of  the  surf 
on  some  distant  beach  which  tlie  ibg  hid  from 
view. 

On  went  the  schooner,  and  !Mr.  Long  blew  un- 
wc'ariedly^  clinging  to  tliis  horn  as  something  by 
which  he  still  might  gain  access  to  tlie  lc::t  boys, 
and  linding  in  this  occupation  something  of  tliat 
antidote  to  pain  which  action  of  any  kind  yields  to 
tlie  energetic  nature.  But  time  passed  on,  and 
OT-hr  the  winds  heard  these  shrill  blasts,  and  only 
ihe  winds  responded  to  the  signal, 

So  darkness  came  npcm  them,  and  night ;  and  the 
darkness  of  this  m'ght  was  intensified  by  the  thick 
fog,  so  that  it  became  a  darkness  which  might  be 
feit. 

'^  Lf  wo  want  to  save  the  boys,"  said  Captain 
Corbet  at  last  to  Mr.  Long,  who  stood  dejectedly 
near  him,  "  my  opinion  is,  tliL.t  we'd  better  keep 
afloat  ourselves ;  but  at  tlio  rate  we're  goin',  it's 
my  opinion  that  before  long  we'll  be  high  and  dry. 
And  we  nii>y  tliank  our  blessed  stars  if  we  light 


I 


I 


IX    A     DILKMMA. 


80 


on  a  inud  fliit,  and  don't  p:ot  dusliod  to  small  bits 
on  l>loniitlon.     Them's  my  sentiments.'' 

^'  Wliy,  don't  you  know  where  you  arc?" 

'^  No  moix!  idee  where  I  am  than  the  man  in  tho 
moon." 

'^  1  thouj;-ht  you  knew  the  coast." 

"So  1  do  — lik(>  a  l)ook." 

''  What  do  yon  mean,  then?" 

"  \\'Iiy,  it"  it  was  only  the  log,  T  wouldn't  mind; 
hut,  mind  you,  there's  the  tides.  Tlie  ilood  tide  *11 
he  coming  along  soon,  and  then  wheredl  we  go  to? 
We  may  get  twisted  u])  into  an  eddy,  and  lind  onr- 
s(dves  on  Ca])0  Sj)nt  ;  or  we  may  glide  up  to 
Windsor,  or  g(3t  thrown  on  the  rocks,  goodness 
ony  knows  where.  '^'here's  no  knowin'  wlicre 
these  tides  may  take  it  into  their  l)lessed  hearts  to 
drift  us  to.  So  the  long  and  tlie  short  of  it  is,  I 
move  we  anchor." 

"  l)ut  isn't  it  a  connnon  thing  for  schooners  to 
drift  about  here  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  J>asin  of  ^linas,  thank  you.  No,  sir. 
Not  if  they  can  hel})  it.  Out  in  Fnndy  it's  dilfer- 
cnt.  Fundy  hain't  got  no  bottom  to  anchor  on, 
except  near  the  shores.  Fundy  ain't  one  universal 
uuul  hank,  nuther.  Out  in  Fundy  every  ski[)per 
cal'lates  on  driftin',  jest  as  a  sea  captain  cal'hites 
on  navigatin'  by  scientific  observation.  Driftin' 
in  Fundy  is  a  science  by  itself,  and  vessels  make 
v'y'ges  back'ard  and  f'or'ard  by  a  new  patent 
driftin'  process.     ]}ut  in  here  ni^body  drifts.     It'a 

oc  gv. 


jj 


T 


90 


TIIK    IJ.    O.    W.    C. 


I    t 


.  I 


t 

If 


Ml'.  Long  gave  ii  lioavy  si;:,li. 

"At  any  rate,  let's  diilt  a  little  longer.  I  cling 
to  hope  of  coming  up  with  the  hoys." 

"  Comin'  7(p  with  them!  Law  hless  my  heart 
alive,  we've  corned  \ip  with  'em  and  passed  'em 
long  ago.  We've  got  on  dill'erent  tracks  some- 
how. Ef  they'd  been  afloat,  they'd  never  missed 
hcarin'  that  everlastin'  trnmj)et  you've  been 
a-blowin'  on  so  like  all  possessed." 

Now  all  this  time  since  they  had  left  the  an- 
chorage the  wind  had  been  blowing  strongly.  As 
the  darkness  increased,  Captain  Corbet  had  taken 
in  his  foresail.  The  water  grew  rougher,  the  little 
schooner  labored  heavily,  and  pitched,  and  tossed, 
and  rolled  about,  while  the  waves  dashed  over  her 
bow.  Mr.  Simmons  had  retired  to  his  berth  with 
the  bodily  pangs  of  seasickness  superadded  to  his 
mental  anxiety.  One  by  one  the  boys  had  disap- 
peared below,  and  for  an  hour  or  more  none  were 
left  on  deck  but  Mv.  Long,  Caj)tain  Corbet,  and  the 
mate.  A  light  had  been  hoisted,  and  Mr.  Long 
still  blew  the  fog-trum,pet. 

But  he  no  longer  blew  it  with  any  hope.  Cap- 
tain Corbet  had  presented  full  before  him  a  pali)a- 
ble  fact,  and  that  was,  that  they  must  be  far  away 
from  any  place  where  the  boat  could  possil)ly  be. 
They  had  sailed  on  and  passed  beyond  them. 
They  could  not  have  been  near  the  boat  at  any 
time.  !->ome  other  current  must  have  carried  it 
away  in  another  direction.     Had  it  not  been  so, 


OUESS    WORK. 


91 


they  must  assuredly  liave  lieurd  tliose  slirill  yells, 
and  in  that  case  they  would  have  responded. 
Either  they  had  been  caught  in  anotlier  current, 
or  else  that  had  liappened  to  them  on  which  he 
dared  not  think.  But  then,  even  so,  if  they  had 
got  into  another  current,  could  it  avail  them  ? 
Foi-  that  boat  to  drift  out  into  this  sea  would  bo 
sure  destruction. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  "  are  there  more  currents 
than  one  al)out  those  islands  ?  " 

"  As  many  currents  as  there  is  hairs  on  a  boss's 
tail." 

"  Then  it's  quite  likely  they  got  into  another 


one 


>> 


"  It's  sartin." 

"  Can  you  conjecture  how  they  may  have  gone  ?  " 

"  Wal,  you  see  the  current  we  came  by  was  a  kind 
of  inside  one  that  took  us  round  the  nighest  island. 
Now,  outside  of  that  there  was  another  current 
that  kind  o'  goes  round  the  next  island,  which  is  a 
bigger  one  than  the  one  we  were  at.  I've  been 
turnin'  it  over  in  my  head,  and  I  cal'iate  that  that 
there  boat,  jedgin'  by  the  course  she  took  as  slie 
shot  by  us,  got  swept  into  the  outer  current,  and 
was  dri/en  away  around  the  outer  island." 

"  We  couldn't  have  been  near  her  at  all,  then." 

"  It  seems  not." 

''  Where  could  they  have  been  when  we  began 
to  blow  ?  " 

"  As  near  as  I  can  cal'iate,  jedgin'  by  the  natur' 


^ii 


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THE  B.    0.   W.   C. 


of  the  currents,  and  tlie  course  they  took,  they 
might  have  been  off  tlie  ftxrthest  end  of  the  other 
island." 

''  How  far  away  from  the  place  where  we  were?" 

"Over  two  miles  —  yes,  more'n  tliree  miles." 

''  IIow  far  can  you  hear  one  of  these  fog-horns?" 

"  About  a  mile." 

"  ^o  they  couldn't  have  heard  us?" 

"  Couldn't  have  heard  a  note.  No,  sir.  And 
that  accounts  for  their  silence." 

'^  Where  does  the  current  go  to,  after  going 
round  that  island  you  s])oak  of?" 

"  Wal,  there's  a  good  many,  but  there's  two  main 
currents:  one  goes  round  the  island,  and  returns 
and  jines  the  om;  that  we  com(>  down  by." 

"And  if  the  boat  came  by  that,  it  would  be 
behind  us." 

".Jes  so." 

"  About  liow  far?  " 

"  (),  ten  miles  or  more  bv  this  time." 

"  Jf  so,  every  moment  now  takes  us  farther  from 
them." 

"  That's  about  it,  anyway  you  take  it.  J5ut  the 
flood  tide's  catching  us  now,  and  where  it's  takin' 
us  to's  more'n  1  know." 

"  Jt  will  take  the  boat  too." 

"  Yes  ;  of  course." 

"  You  spoko  of  another  current." 

"  Yes,  the  other  current  sweeps  around  fiirther 
up,  nigh  unto  the  main  land,  and  takes  a  turn  and 


THK    CAl'TAIN    THINKS    OF    HIS    IJAHV 


93 


pomes  down,  till   it  jiiies  tlic  gen'nil  current  uloii 
with  tlic  others." 

"So,  if  tliiy  hud  dril'ted  into  that,  they  would 
still  1)0  behind  us." 

"  Of  course." 

"  Where  do  you  think  we  are  now?" 

"Can't  tell.     Somewhere  near  IJloniidon,  though 
perhaps  I'm  jest  as  near  Ilorton  IJiuil'." 

"How    lar    would    the    bout    drift   till    the   tide 
turns  ?  " 

"  VVal,  they  would  have  time  to  drift  nearly  to 
Blomidon." 

"  And  wlien  the  tide  turns,  you  eun't  tell  where 
they'd  go?" 

"No,  sir  —  noi-  nobody  else." 

"  Whut  chunce  would  there  be  of  the  bout  keep- 
ing ufloat?" 

Captain  Corbet  shook  liis  head. 

"It's  rougli  —  precious  rough.  Ef  it  liad  been 
any  other  boys  than  them  there  partic'ler  boys,  I'd 
have  my  doubts.  They'd  all  be  swamped,  sure  us 
a  gun.  But  them  there  boys  is  oncommon  livelv 
creeturs.  An'  they've  got  a  greut  idea  of  a  row- 
boat,  though  they  don't  know  nothin'  of  sailin'. 
They'd  manage  to  keep  afloat  as  long  as  anybodv 
I  know  of  They'd  make  a  precious  hard  fight  of  it 
afore  they'd  knock  under,  mind,  I  tell  you.  Thev're 
f)oys  that  are  up  to  snuff.  They  mind  me  of  my 
bab})y.  My  bubby  is  the  cutest  little  creetur  thut 
ever  I  see  in  ull  my  born  days.     Why,  tliat  there 


1:1 


94 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


; 


infant  last  week — jost  a  woek  n^o  to-morrow — • 
tliat  tliore  infant  —  liallo  —  O  —  ah  —  liur — wliy, 
1  declare  —  Mr.  Lon^  —  ^^'o?  ''^'^  l^'^"^*^'>  '^"  hasn't 
heard  ahout  the  ini'ant." 

It  "vvas  a  fact.  Mr.  Lonp;  had  ^ouc,  and  had  lost 
the  story  of  tlie  infant.  A  monient  afterward  the 
shrill  Mast  of  the  hoin  sounded  out  over  the  deep. 

"  Captain/' said  he,  as  he  eanie  hack  again,''! 
wt)n't  ohject  any  more  to  your  anehoring.  Do  as 
you  choose.  (Jod  alone  knows  what  is  best  to  do. 
lie  alone  can  save  those  dear  boys.  1  must  try  to 
trust  them  to  him." 

A  few  moments  alter,  the  vessel  was  swinging  at 
her  anchor  in  twenty  lathoms  water. 

Captain  (\)rbet  and  the  mate  cahnly  retired  to 
sleep,  leaving  the  st'hooner  to  take  care  of  herself. 
But  there  was  one  who  slept  not  all  through  that 
night.  Mr.  Long  could  not  leave  the  deck.  The 
air  below  was  stifling  to  one  so  full  of  anxiety  and 
suspense  as  he  was.  All  night  long  he  [)aced  the 
deck  with  unwearied  ibotsteps,  —  all  night  long, — 
stoi)ping  at  times  to  sound  hU-  trumpet ;  stoj)])ing 
again  to  peer  through  the  thick  dai-kness  that  hung 
around  like  a  funeral  pall  over  the  grave  of  the 
departed.  There,  too,  over  and  over  agnin  in  the 
darkness  and  the  gl'V)m  of  that  night,  he  knelt  down 
on  that  deck,  and  poured  forth  all  the  anguish  of  his 
soul,  calling  forth  out  of  his  despair  unto  Him  who 
alone  is  able  to  save.  After  each  prayer  his  soul 
would  grow  calmer,  and  the  storm  of  his  agitated 


ALMOST    HOME   AGAIN. 


95 


heart  would  cease  lor  a  time,  till,  g;ra(lually  reas- 
Piiniing  its  strength,  his  grief  would  once  more 
return,  to  be  once  more  dispelled  by  prayer.  So, 
amid  vigil,  and  lasting,  and  prayer,  and  grief,  passed 
the  night  away ;  and  when  the  dawn  came,  there 
stood  this  man  looking  out  over  the  sea,  with  a  face 
pale  from  suffering,  and  eyes  dimmed  with  unfa- 
miliar tears. 

The  dawn  of  day  brought  at  least  one  comfort. 

The  wind  had  changed  during  the  night,  and  the 
fog  had  gone.  The  wide  sea  once  more  unfolded 
itself,  and  as  the  light  grew  stronger,  Mr.  Long 
eagerly  scanned  it  in  all  directions  in  search  after 
the  lost  ones.  At  last,  rousing  Captain  Corbet  and 
the  mate,  he  urged  them  to  set  sail  once  more. 

Captain  Corbet  came  on  deck,  and  looked  round 
in  great  curiosity  to  see  where  he  was.  He  had 
gone  to  sleep  in  beautiful  ignorance  of  his  where- 
abouts, and  it  had  been  an  interesting  problem  as 
he  dozed  oft'  to  slee]). 

The  moment  he  looked  around,  he  uttered  a  cry. 

"  Good  gracious  !  " 

Mr.  Long  looked  inquiringly  at  him. 

"  Ef  1  ain't  back  at  mv  own  door !  Don't  you 
see  it,  Mr.  Long?  Why,  darn  me,  ef  we  haven't 
drifted  clean  back  to  Grand  Pre  ! " 

Mr.  Long  looked  in  wonder  to  where  Captain 
Corbet  pointed,  and  there,  to  his  surprise,  he  recog- 
nized the  familiar  shore.  A  cloud  came  over  his 
brow.     The  thought  of  the  lost  ones  came  to  him 


'i  '( 


li> 


I 


96 


THE    B.    O.    W.    C. 


more  vividly  as  lio  saw  tho  plaro  which  mig'ht  pos- 
sii)Iy  be  doomed  to  know  them  no  more  forever. 

''  VA  it  warii't  dead  low  tide/'  said  Captain  Cor- 
bet, ''  darn  it  et'  1  wouldn't  have  a  p;ood  mind  to  tie 
up  the  old  Anty  to  tlie  nighest  stump,  and  take  a 
run  up  to  see  the  babby.'' 

Mr.  Long-  turned  upon  him  with  so  terrible  a 
frown  that  Ca])tain  Corbet  was  awed. 

'' O — I  didn't  mean  it.  1  —  T  ony  mad(!  the;  re- 
mark. Of  course  I  didn't  mean  it  —  it's  ony  a 
leetil  outbust  of  parential  afl'ection.*' 

"Come,  make  liaste  !  "  said  Mr.  Long,  sternly. 
"  There's  no  time  to  lose.  We  must  scour  the  bay 
till  we  find  the  boys." 

The  anchor  went  up,  and  up  went  the  sails,  and 
the  Antelope  once  more  s[)rea(l  her  wings  to  the 
blast,  and  went  over  the  waters. 

J]ut  wIkm'c  could  they  go*.^ 

That  was  the  (juestion  which  it  M'as  difficult  to 
answer.  Where,  or  in  what  direction,  east,  west, 
north,  or  south  ? 

Thi"()Ui>'  all  that  day  thev  sailed  about.  First, 
they  went  down  the  straits  pa^^t  JJlomidon  ;  then, 
turning  back,  they  stretched  away  iar  over  to  the 
fiirthest  extremitv  of  the  bav.  '^Fhev  spoke  what 
vessels  th(>y  met.  'J'hev  Avatched  every  iloatiny: 
object,  and  it  was  with  a  i'eeling  ol"  relief  that  each 
one  resolved  itscH'  into  a  chi|),  or  a  siu'ngle,  or  a 
log,  and  never  into  a  hat  or  the  seat  of  a  boat. 

So  passed  the  day. 


THE   SlJAHcri    UKXEWEI). 


97 


HoarHiin-  in  such  ;.,  way,  witli.»ut  any  clew,  ft 
u-as  <]ini,-,ilt  i;.r  them  to  I'cel  that  thov  wi'.v  .|ni'„.. 
anythii.o-.  While,  tlioy  wore  searcliii,'^-  in  the  (>;,st" 
the  tra<vs  of  tlio  ohjVct  of  thoir  soairh  lui-ht  ail 
be  m  the  west;  and  while  thov  wore  examining 
the  north,  the  boat  might  be  .Iriftino;  in  the  south'^ 
or,  while  they  were  in  the  Basin  of  Minas,lhe  boat 
my^ht  l,e  helplessly  carried  about  hy  the  currents 
of  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

One  thin-  there  was  to  comfort  them;  and  that 
was,  the  departure  of  the  ih^,  the  clear  atmospluMv 
the  pleasant  bree/e,  th(>  hri-ht  sunshine.  Seyenil 
vessels  had  been  met  with,  and  all  had  promise.l 
to  keep  a  lookout  and  en-ao-e  other  vessels  in  the 
same  service.  On  such  a  sea,  and  under  such  a 
sky,  there  could  he  no  danger,  if  the  boat  had  sur- 
vived the  night. 

But  /tad  the  boat  survived  the  night? 
Alas  !  and  alas  !  who  could  answer  that ! 
Mr.  Long,  at  any  rate,  would  not  give  up.  As 
though  in  deiiance  of  fate,  he  would  not  haul  down 
that  flag  which  Bart  had  hoisted,  but  kept  it  flying, 
in  the  fond  hope  that  it  would  once  more  greet 
their  eyes. 


ig 


KvA 


r »' 


98 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


If 

I 


13  r 


I   : 


VII. 

Lost  in  the  Fog.  —  At  the  Mercy  cf  the  Tide.  —  The 
last  Rock. —  Wanderings  on  a  lonely  Shore.  —  A 
great  Discovery.  —  A  new  Mode  of  Cooking. 


m 


|EANTIME,  what  Imd  become  of  the  boys  ? 
Was  the  ^'  13.  ().  W.  C."  thus  overwhehiied 
beneath  tlie  dark  wave  ?  Were  all  the 
grief,  and  the  watching,  and  the  tireless  search 
of  tiie  noble-hearted  Mr.  Long  to  be  unavailing? 

We  shall  see. 

As  the  boat  sped  away,  dragged  on  by  the  swift 
current,  the  boys  sat  in  astonishment  and  conster- 
nation. Bart  supported  Bruce's  head,  and  Arthur 
hurried  to  the  stern  to  assist.  They  wet  his  pale 
brow  in  silence  ;  while  Bruce,  in  a  faint  voice, 
told  them  that  he  had  been  seized  with  a  sudden 
spasm.  He  soon  felt  better,  though  unable  to  exert 
himself. 

By  that  time  the  fog  had  closed  in  around  them, 
and  both  the  schooner  and  the  shore  had  been  shut 
out  from  their  view.  They  were  drifting  swiftly 
on,  they  could  not  tell  where.  For  a  long  time 
they  sat  watching  and  waiting — how  long  they  did 


THE   BOAT    AT  SEA. 


99 


not  know.  In  seasons  of  siisponso,  momcMits  are 
prolonged  to  hours  ;  and  ao  it  was  here.  On  they 
went,  ai 


still 


on. 


Eacl 


1  one  we 


11  k 


new  a 


11  tl 


le 


possibilities  of  the  danger  that  lay  before  them. 


Tl 


lere  was  a  wide  and  a  wi 


ild 


sea,  oversoreac 


(1  with 


fog-clouds,  where  the  waves  were  rising  and  the 
night  was  coming  down.  Into  the  midst  of  all  this 
they  were  being  borne  by  swift  currents.  This 
they  all  knew,  yet  not  a  sound  of  dismay  escaped 
any  one  of  them.  Whatever  each  one  may  have 
felt  of  fear,  he  sat  in  silence  and  gave  no  sign. 
There  were  stout  hearts  that  beat  in  those  slender, 
boyish  breasts,  that  awaited,  undismayed,  the 
terrors  of  the  deep. 

Bart  was  the  first  to  rouse  himself. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  drawing  forth  a  tin  pail  from 
under  the  seat,  "  we  must  fight  for  our  lives,  and 
make  up  our  minds  to  pass  the  night  here.  We'll 
have  to  use  this  concern,  I  think." 

"  Here's  something,  too,  that  may  be  of  use," 
said  Arthur,  drawing  out  a  narrow  plank  from  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  "  Phil,  there's  another  one  ; 
just  draw  it  out." 

Phil  reached  down  for  it,  but  Tom  Crawford 
dragged  it  out  first. 

"  Pm  stronger  than  you,  Phil,"  said  he.  "  If 
there's  to  be  any  paddling,  Pll  do  it." 

Meanwhile  Arthur  drew  his  knife,  and  began 
cutting  at  the  plank  so  as  to  fashion  it  into  an  oar. 
Tom  did  the  same. 


FX 


100 


THE   B.    0.    VV.    C. 


if 


'r 


1  \ 


Itli: 


I 


!        i 


^    'i 


Soon  tliey  wore  iiituriuptiMl  by  u  .shout  from 
Biiit. 

'' Ilurriili,  Ijoy-^!  LmimI!  land!"  Iiu  cried.  "Look! 
look!"  and  lie  j)ointe(l  to  tlio  loCt. 

True  (Mionj;li,  there  was  the  dim  outh'no  of 
blaek  clill's  rising-  hi,i;ii  not  tar  away.  Past  theso 
tliey  were  di'irtiiiLi'.  In  an  instant  Arthur  and  Tom 
put  out  tiieir  planks,  and  l»e^-an  to  use  them  as 
paddh's,  in  the  Indian  I'asliion,  lieadin^"  tiie  boat 
toward  tiie  sliore,  and  ]»uttin^-  I'ortii  all  tiieir 
streuji^th.  Bart,  too,  tried  to  use  liis  dipper  for  a 
paddle. 

The  l)()at  di'if"te(l  on  ;  but  the  current  swept 
them  in  neai-er  and  nearer.  Some  ])ro^Tess  was 
also  made  by  the  paddles,  iMide  thou^'li  they  wer«'. 

Borne  on  l)y  the  tide,  the  boat  every  moment 
(b*ew  nearer  to  the  slioro  ;  yet  every  moment  it 
was  swiftly  drifting  by,  and  it  now  became  a 
question  whether  it  would  be  at  all  possible  for 
tliem  to  reach  the  land.  Already  they  could  see 
the  end  of  the  island,  a  preci])itous  clilf,  not  far 
away,  toward  which  they  were  drifting.  A  ^"ew 
minutes  more,  and  they  would  be  there. 

The  clilf  was  hif;"li.  At  its  base  there  was  a 
l(Mlo-e  of  rocks,  which  ran  down  into  the  water. 
At  tiiis  low  tide  the  ledge  extended  for  a  long 
distance,  and  terminated  in  a  j)rojecting  mass, 
which  was  covered  with  an  innnense  growth  of 
sea-weed.  Around  this  point  the  current  passed, 
aud  it  was  to  this  that  the  boat  was  speeding. 


A  sTiM'faii.i:    roll  land. 


101 


And  now  Jill  tlicir  exertions  were  put  fnrtli  to 
extrii'Jitc  the  l)o;it  IVtuii  tlic  cciitrMl  ^nisit  of  the 
current.  Already,  thanks  to  tlieir  Inrnier  cxci- 
tions,  tliev  liad  forced  it  from  llie  cfiitrc  to  the 
edg'e  of  tlie  tide,  am!  a  few  mnic  vigorous  cirorts 
fni;;ht  liring  them  to  tlie  shore. 

Hv*  so  swift  was  the  ti(h\  tliat  it  seemed  al»niit 
to  snatch  them  away  from  tiiat  sliore  when  it  was 
just  within  reaeli.  It  seeiinMl  jis  thtm^h  tliey 
could  almost  have  wadecl  ashore  if  they  had  jumjicil 
overboard.  Hut  that,  of  ('(turse,  could  not  lie  (htne, 
for  the  ]>ower  of  tlu'  euri'ent  would  have  swept 
any  one  away  who  slnuild  try  it. 

To  every  stroki'  of  the  rude  paddles  the  tid«? 
]>rought  a  counteracting-  inlluenee  :  and  for  v\ryy 
six  imdies  of  forward  motion,  ther»>  weie  two  feet 
of  sidelonji;  drift.  The  hoat's  head  was  toward 
the  shore,  hut  her  motion  was  broadside  ;  and  so 
the  shore  seemed  ever  near,  yet  inaccessible,  and 
most  unattainabh;  when  most  within  reach. 

And  so  on  past  the  whole  length  of  the  island, 
until  the  clilVat  the  farthest  extremity  was  reached 
and  passed.  They  were  but  tcMi  feet  from  the 
shore.  The  rocky  ledj^'e,  covered  with  sea-weed, 
still  extended  before  them.  It  was  to  this  that 
they  now  tried  to  force  the  boat. 

Ten  feet  !  Only  ten  ieet  !  And  th(»  ten  feet 
lessened  to  nine,  and  the  nine  to  eight,  and  the 
eight  to  seven,  and  the  seven  to  six. 

But    six   feet    between    them   and   the    shore  ! 


Uh        ( 


102 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


I 


But  six  foot !  Would  tlioy  —  could  they —  fail  at 
last  ? 

Six  foot  only  !  J]»it  tlio  tide  was  wild  and  strong, 
and  now,  at  this  last  crisis  of  their  fate,  seemed  like 
Rome  living  mcmstor,  fearful  that  his  prey  was 
escaping  from  his  jjower.  It  was  as  though  his 
grasp  was  fastened  on  them  with  a  fiercer  clutch 
and  a  more  desperate  tenacity, —  as  though,  at 
this  supreme  hour,  he  had  risen  in  his  might,  and, 
even  at  the  very  gate  of  hia  domain,  had  seized 
them,  and  was  trying  to  draw  them  to  destruction. 

But  six  feet !  Yet  between  them  and  the  rock 
of  their  hope,  even  in  those  few  feet  of  watery 
distance,  what  risks  and  dangers  lay — what  chances 
of  loss  —  what  balHed  hopes  —  what  despair  1 

The  suspense  was  anguish. 

On  they  went  with  the  fury  of  the  torrent.  "0, 
why  haven't  I  a  paddle  ! "  groaned  little  Phil  Ken- 
nedy. Bruce  raised  himself,  and  looked  around, 
with  his  pale  face  and  staring  eyes.  Arthur,  and 
Tom,  and  Bart  put  forth  their  last  energies. 

Four  feet ! 

Not  a  word  was  spoken.  The  tightly  com- 
pressed lips,  the  resolute  eyes,  the  frowning  brows 
of  the  struggling  boys,  spoke  of  their  resolution  ; 
their  panting,  heaving  breasts  told  how  heavily 
they  labored  with  their  clumsy,  unwieldy  oars. 

A  roar  sounded  in  their  ears  to  the  right.  It 
was  the  rush  of  the  current  as  it  swept  past  the 
extreme  verge  of  the  ledge.     There  was  the  open 


I 


THE    T.AST   CnANCE. 


KK? 


pea.  Tlicro  lay  tlicir  last  chanco  ;  i)oyonfl  it — do- 
st  motion. 

'I'liov  knew  it  —  they  felt  it.  That  sound  struck 
on  their  ears  like  the  knell  of  doom.  One  last 
effort  —  one  superhuman  stru<;'^le.  Nearer  came 
the  boat ;  although  even  then  tremhlin^- on  the  ex- 
treme verjj^e,  yielding  to  the  current,  it  turned 
slightly,  l»rin«i;ing  its  head  closer  to  the  rock. 

It  was  done. 

In  an  instant,  arms  were  outstretched,  and  Bart's 
hands  were  elin{i,in^'  to  the  sea-weed.  For  }>,  mo- 
ment the  boat  was  checked. 

Tom  Crawford  and  Phil  Kennedy  j.>;i"ii^P<^'d  the 
sea-weed  also  ;  and  at  that  instant,  Arthur,  seizing 
the  boat's  ro})e,  s])ran}j:;  ashore.  If  is  leap  jerked 
the  boat,  which,  cau<;ht  by  the  tide,  was  swept  off, 
leavinjz;  masses  of  sea-weed,  torn  from  the  rocks, 
in  the  hands  of  the  boys. 

A  cry  of  despair  arose. 

IJut  Arthur  held  the  ro])e  wound  about  his 
hands.  As  the  boat  moved,  he  stea<lied  iiis  feet 
for  the  struggle.  The  swift  tide  bore  it  off.  As 
the  rope  tightened  out,  the  fury  of  tlie  current, 
driving  against  the  boat,  contended  with  the 
strength  of  tluit  one  boy.  For  a  moment  it  was 
the  boy  wlio  lost.  At  the  first  jerk,  his  feet 
slipped  on  the  treacherous  sea-weed,  lie  fell.  lie 
was  dragged  toward  the  water. 

No  sound  escaped  from  those  in  the  boat,  —  not 
a  word   either  of  fear  for   themselves  or  of  en- 


nr 

1! 

1 

1 

1 . 

.» 
i 

II 


I    i 


I  u 


104 


THH    B.    O.    W.    C. 


('()urii!j:om(M!t  or  Wiiiniiii;-  it»  Artliiir.  Well  tliov 
knew  tliiit  Ai'tlmi-  would  die  on  the  rocks,  or  bo 
drowned  in  tlu;  sen,  ratlicr  than  lose  his  hold  of 
that  ro])(},  Avhich,  in  \\'\^  (hisperato  purpose,  he  had 
twisted  round  his  liands. 

For  a  lew  moments  Artliur  coidd  nt)t  recover 
liimself.  On  tliat  slip])ery  sea-weed  tliere  was  no 
iootliold.  lie  was  di'awn  nearer  and  nearer  to  tlie 
water.  He  htokcMl  around  hastily.  At  last  he  saw 
the  round  to})  of  a  boulder  a  little  on  one  side.  To 
this  he  mana<;tMl  to  work  himself,  letting*  the  boat 
yield  to  the  tiile  still  more  as  he  did  so.  A  few 
ste])s,  and  he  was  there.  lie  plun^'ed  into  the 
water,  he  ]»i'essed  his  i'eet  ag'ainst  that  stone,  and 
then,  di'awing  himself  back,  he  pulled  with  all  his 
streiii^-th. 

The  boat  yieldc(l.  'J^he  power  was  now  in  his 
liands.  (}ras})in<>'  the  vope  nearer,  ho  drew  the 
boat  in  more  closely,  and  at  last  it  touched  the 
shore. 

They  were  s'<ved  at  last ! 

Out  leaped  Bart  into  the  water,  and,  holding  the 
boat,  he  added  his  streng-th  to  that  of  Arthur. 
The  otlieis  followed  as  (piickly  as  possible.  Bruce 
had  bci^un  to  regain  his  strength  once  more,  and 
was  able  to  g(^t  out  without  help.  The  unpar- 
alleled exertions  which  he  had  undergone  on  the 
cliff  had  given  a  severe  strain,  which,  in  his  final 
struggle  to  reach  the  schooner,  had  resulted  in  a 
spasra  of  his  heart.     Frtjm  this  he  was  now  rallying 


A    CONSULTATION. 


105 


once  more.  Joy  at  roacliiiig  the  land  did  nnich  to 
restore  liim,  and  he  Avas  soon  aide  to  start  wherever 
the  otliers  wished  to  ^o. 

Tlieir  iirst  movement  was  to  j::o  away  from  the 
led<j;e  lartiier  up  to  the  Ix'adi.  TIk^  rocks  wei'e 
flat,  and  not  xnry  dillicnit  to  walk  ovei\  Tlicy 
towed  the  boat  as  they  went,  which  was  a  dillicnit 
task,  hut  successlully  aceomj)lished.  Alter  severe 
exertions,  they  at  length  brought  the  boat  abt)nt  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  u])  to  a  place  where  there  was 
an  indentation  in  the  line  of  shore,  and  scarcely 
any  current.  Here  they  hauled  it  u|)  some  dis- 
tance, and  fastened  it  securely.  Alter  this  they 
went  up  to  the  gravelly  beach  at  the  foot  of  the 
clilT,  and  sat  down  to  rest  for  a  while,  and  to  con- 
sider the  situation. 

'J'he  fog  was  as  thick  as  ever,  and  they  could 
see  but  a  little  distance  along  the  lieach,  or  out  on 
the  water.  The  side  of  the  island  on  Avhich  they 
found  themselves  was  sheltered  from  the  chill  wind. 
As  to  the  boat,  it  was  impossible  to  draw  it  up  any 
farther.  It  would  be  necessary  to  wait  until  the 
tide  rose  higher,  before  they  could  bring  it  into  a 
place  of  safety.  ]?ut  little  could  be  done,  except 
watch  it  from  time  to  time. 

It  was  now  late,  and  darkness  was  coming  on 
rai)idly.  Soon  they  would  be  surroundcil  by  the 
imjtenetrable  shades  of  night.  Vy,\v\  and  Arthur 
offered  to  go  along  the  shore  and  lind  some  place 
where  they  could  pass  the  night,  leaving  the  others 


*! 


w 


106 


THE   B.    O.   W.   C. 


\'< 


li!  ■  :li 


■i  I 


|i 


m  I 


to  watch  the  boat,  and  see  if  there  were  any  signs 
of  the  schooner. 

But  then  tlie  important  question  arose,  what 
sliould  they  do  for  tlieir  suppers  ?  For  a  time  this 
puzzled  all  of  them. 

'^  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  boys,"  said  Bart  at  last ; 
"  I  think  1  know  how  to  get  something.  We  passed 
a  place  down  on  the  shore  where  there  were  lots 
of  mussels.  Tom,  you  come  along  with  me,  and 
Phil  can  go  with  Arthur.  Bruce  may  watch 
here." 

This  plan  was  eagerly  adopted  ;  and  as  there 
was  no  time  to  lose,  the  boys  set  out.  Fortunately, 
the  place  suoken  of  by  Bart  was  not  far  away, 
and  fortunately^,  too,  the  rocks  were  covered  with 
shell-fish  of  different  kinds,  and  the  hollows  of  the 
rocks  filled  with  them.  Tom  and  Bart  heaped 
them  into  their  handkerchiefs. 

"  Halhj !  "  cried  Bart,  suddenly,  in  a  joyous  tone. 
"  See  here,  Tom." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Come  here." 

Tom  went,  and  found  Bart  plunging  his  hands 
most  vigorously  into  a  pool  of  water,  which  the  re- 
treating tide  had  left  in  a  rocky  hollow. 


"  What  have  you  got  there  ?  " 

'^  I  call  them  shrimps,"  said  Bart,  holding  one  up 
in  his  hands.  '^  They're  rather  small,  though.  Go 
about  and  hunt  up  another  hole." 

Tom  went  off,  and  in  a  short  time  called  to  Bart 


in  a 


loud 


voice. 


SOMETHIN(i    TO    EAT. 


10' 


Bart  started  up. 

Tom  was  walking  toward  him  with  a  large,  dark 
object  in  liis  hand. 

"  A  lobster  !  "  cried  Bart.  '^  A  lobster  !  Plurrah  ! 
and  hurrah  again  !  Tom,  you've  saved  us  all  from 
starvation.  Good  on  your  head.  We  needn't  wait 
here  any  longer,  for  it's  getting  dark,  and  we'll 
have  to  join  the  other  fellows." 

On  returning  to  Bruce,  they  displayed  their 
treasures,  to  the  great  delight  of  all.  Arthur  and 
Phil  had  also  been  successful.  Walking  farther 
up  the  beach,  they  had  come  to  the  end  of  the 
cliff,  and  reached  a  steep,  well-wooded  bank.  It 
was  not  far  away,  and  there  were  fir  trees,  from 
which  they  could  easily  cut  enough  brush  to  make 
very  comfortable  beds.  There  was  also  plenty  of 
drift-wood,  with  which  they  could  make  a  fire. 

Without  any  more  delay,  the  boys  all  started  off, 
first  marking  the  place  so  as  to  know  where  to  go 
for  the  boat.  Reaching  the  bank,  tliey  gathered 
drift-wood,  and  logs,  and  fir-brush,  witli  which  they 
built  a  fire  on  the  beach  at  the  foot  of  the  clitf, 
where  it  adjoined  the  bank.  They  had  plenty  of 
matches  in  their  pockets,  and  soon  the  fire  was 
lighted ;  the  flames  rushed  fiercely  through  the 
infiammable  brush-wood,  and  the  boys  kept  gather- 
ing fresh  fuel  from  all  sides  and  heaping  it  on. 

''  And  now  to  cook  our  tea,"  said  liart.  "  Let's 
get  a  lot  of  stones,  and  jmt  them  in  tlie  fire  till 
they  get  red  hot.  Then  we  can  draw  them  out, 
and  roast  all  our  shell-fish  splendidly." 


108 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


m  -^ 


il 


1 1 


This  suggestion  was  at  once  acted  on,  and  the 
boys  gatliered  stones  and  threw  them  in. 

After  this  they  all  went  to  work  collecting  drift- 
wood from  all  sides,  till  a  largo  pile  was  heaped 
up,  sufficient  to  last  them  through  the  night. 

Then,  in  turn,  each  one  took  the  hatchet  and 
went  up  the  bank,  and  cut  as  much  fir-brush  as  he 
considered  necessary  for  a  bed.  The  darkness  had 
increased,  and  the  log  intensified  it  ;  but  the 
towering  flames,  as  they  leaped  up,  illumined  the 
scene,  allbrding  tliem  sufficient  light  to  cut  the 
brush,  and  throwing  a  strong  glare  along  the  beach 
as  far  as  the  place  where  their  boat  lay. 

And  next,  they  pulled  out  the  stones  from  the 
fire,  and  arranging  some  of  them  in  the  sand, 
they  laid  the  lol)ster  on  the  top,  and  piled  other 
stones  around  them,  till  the  lob'  ter  lay  buried  in 
an  oven  as  good  and  as  serviceaole  as  that  of  the 
best  kitchen  range.  A  number  of  shell-fish  were 
thrown  on  other  stcmes,  and  the  shrimps  were 
easily  cooked  by  being  laid  on  the  top  of  a  hot 
stone  for  a  few  minutes.  While  waiting  for  the 
lobster,  they  appeased  their  hunger  by  cooking 
and  eating  these  smaller  fry. 

'*  1  never  ate  baked  lobster,"  said  Bruce ;  "  but 
I've  heard  that  it's  the  best  thing  there  is." 

"  We'll  soon  judge  for  ourselves,"  said  Bart. 
"  Only  before  we  fairly  sit  down  to  dine,  let's  go 
oif  and  draw  the  boat  up  farther." 

Four  of  them    started   off.      They   found   that 


BAKED   LOBSTER. 


100 


iilready  tlu;  tide  liiid  risen  so  far  tliat  it  was  level 
with  the  hows.  A  Ioiijl;-  and  vigorous  exertion 
enabled  tlieni  to  draw  it  up  itirther,  and  thtni  tliey 
went  haek  to  the  fire. 

By  that  time  it  was  decided  that  the  lohster  had 
been  baking  long  enough,  and  it  was  accordingly 
uncovered. 

A  cry  of  delight  escaped  them. 

There  lay  the  h)bster,  biMlHantly  red,  as  though 
red  hot  from  the  oven,  and  showing  clearly  the  ex- 
cellence of  Bart's  contrivance. 

"  That's  the  way  the  Micmacs  manage,"  said 
Bart.  '^  And  they  wouldn't  look  at  a  lobster  tliat 
came  out  of  a  pot." 

Ranging  themselves  around  the  lobster,  in  front 
of  the  fire,  the  boys  now  began  their  rej)ast.  One 
and  all  pronounced  it  gh)rious.  It  was  salt  enough 
and  juicy  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  deUcate  palate  ; 
and  the  severe  exercise  and  long  fast  of  the  boys 
had  given  them  apju'tites  which  would  liave  made 
a  worse  dish  acceptable. 

'^  Well,  boys,"  said  Bart,  "  here  wo  are  on  a 
desert  island,  without  a  penny  in  our  pockets;  but 
it  isn't  a  bad  place,  after  all." 

"  I  wonder  if  thev  -will  hunt  after  us." 

"  Of  course  they  will." 

''  They  ought  to  see  this  fire,  at  any  rate." 

"  I  thought  of  that,  and  expected  to  see  some 
signs  of  them  before  this." 

"  Perhaps  it's  too  foggy." 


no 


TIIR    B.    O.    W.    C. 


m^^ 


I; 


W   iii 


i  I 


i\ 


<n  '■ 


"  0,  if  tlicy  wore  within  a  iiiilo  of  us,  they'd  see 
tliat  iioht." 

^'  1  sliould  think,  if  they  ranio  uf'toi  us,  tliey 
would  liitvo  heen  within  tliat  distance." 

'^  (),  \\v  can't  tt'lh  They  may  have  got  into 
anotlier  direction  alto^'ctlier." 

"  Well,  1  suppose  they'll  find  us  some  time." 

^'  I'm  sure  1  don't  care." 

"  Nor  do  I." 

"  Nor  1." 

"  Nor  1." 

'^  We'll  have  to  prepare  for  life  on  a  desert 
island.  To-morrow  we'll  explore  it,  and  build  our 
camp.     It's  lucky  we  have  a  hatchet  and  a  pistol." 

"  It's  lucky  we  have  lobsters." 

"  O,  we'll  find  lots  of  other  things.  There  are 
sea-gulls'  eggs,  I'll  bet." 

'^  And  clams." 

'^  And  perha])s  oysters." 

"  We'll  have  to  organize  a  government,  and  build 
a  town.     Wigwams  will  make  the  best  houses." 

"  No  —  spruce  camps." 

"  (),  wigwams  are  the  only  things  that  will  keep 
the  rain  oif." 

"  T  wonder  if  w^e  can  find  any  birch  bark." 

"  We  must  explore  to-morrow." 

"  There's  one  thing  more  to  do  to-night,"  said 
Arthur.  "  For  my  part,  1  don't  want  to  have  to 
run  down  to  that  miserable  boat  every  ten  minutes 
till  high  tide.     I've  had  enough  of  her  for  one  day. 


THEY   RT.EEP. 


in 


We  mnst  get  her  up  now.  There's  a  lot  of  found 
stir'ks  in  tliat  pile,  and  we  can  use  thera  as  rollers  ; 
8o  let's  go  and  get  the  boat  up  now." 

This  proposition  was  at  once  acted  on.  Four 
good  round  sticks  were  found,  and  some  others  to 
serve  as  levers.  With  these  the  boys  started  ok' 
to  move  the  l)oat. 

They  found  it  hard  work,  but  practicalde.  The 
progress  was  slow,  and  it  took  a  good  hour  ;  but  at 
last  they  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  boat 
above  high-water  mark,  and  fastened  to  a  piece  of 
projecting  rock. 

Then  they  selected  sleeping  places,  and  spread 
their  beds.  After  this  thoy  heaped  up  fresh  fuel, 
and  sat  around  the  fire,  making  a  hundred  ])lans 
for  their  desert  life.  Arthur  was  the  only  one  who 
did  anything.  He  had  found  a  piece  of  tough 
spruce,  and  with  hatchet  and  knife  was  busily 
shaping  it  into  an  oar. 

At  last  they  all  retired  to  their  beds,  and  slept. 


im 


m 


i^ 


i'l'i 


'I  I 


I;' 


1"I2 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


yiii. 


'Ml 

f 


m^ 


m 


!:'' 


I' 


Blue  Shj.  —  Buihflng  a  House.  —  The  Su/nal  Staff. 
—  A  fatal  Din(jud.  —  Mournful  lorcbodinys. 

*||Y#  ARLY  the  next  inoniin};'  the  bovs  were  all 
j|»^  np,  ([iiite  refreshed,  in  spite  of  their  iinac- 
\»^  ~  customed  beds.  They  gathered  the  embers 
of  tlie  fire  together,  and  heaping  on  fresh  fuel, 
started  it  into  a  blaze.  Tlien  they  proceeded  to 
secure  a  breakfast.  Tliis  could  not  be  innnediately 
attended  to,  however,  for  the  tide  was  not  at  its 
lowest  ebb,  and  it  was  necessary  to  wait  for  two 
or  three  hours.  Enough  shell-fish  remained  to  stay 
their  appetites  till  something  better  could  be  pro- 
cured. 

To  their  great  joy,  they  saw  that  the  fog  had  all 
gone.  A  warm,  fresh  breeze  was  blowing,  the  sky 
was  clear  and  cloudless,  and  the  sun  rose  brilliantly, 
casting  his  dazzling  rays  in  a  ra  liant  flood  of  lustre 
across  the  sea.  If  there  had  been  any  feeling  of 
discontent,  it  would  have  been  dispelled   by  the 


rrandeur  o 


f  tl 


le  scene. 


Home  eight  or  ten  miles  away  they  saw  the  main 
land.    Far  away,  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  they 


EXPLORATIONS. 


113 


saw  a  lino  of  liills,  toniiiiiatiiiLr  in  llio  familiar  furm 
of  Bloniidon,  w  liili^,  looking'  aloiii;'  tlio  Itcacli,  tlioy 
saw  lyinu;  boyond  this  isiaiul  tlic  om>  on  wiiicli  tlioy 
had  landod  tlio  day  l>oforo.  They  now  know  that 
tlioy  liad  drifted  past  tliat,  and  liad  gone  asliore 
on  tlie  a<ljoinin<i;  one,  and  tliey  conld  understand 
tlie  wliole  of  that  course  wliieli  they  liad  made 
bhndly  througli  tlio  fog.  It  was  witli  mueli  eager- 
ness tiiat  they  looked  around  for  tlio  schooner. 
But  they  saw  no  traces  of  lier  wliatever.  The 
place  where  she  had  anchored  was  ])lainly  dis- 
cernible, but  she  had  gone.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
know  the  reason  of  this,  since  it  was  the  very  thing 
which  they  expected  would  hapjten.  But  where 
was  the  schooner  now?  Which  way  had  she  gone? 
When  would  she  return?  How  could  those  on 
board  possibly  find  them  out?  All  these  were 
questions  which  it  was  not  easy  to  answer. 

While  waiting  for  the  tide  to  fall,  they  wandered 
up  the  banks  in  order  to  select  some  j)lace  suitable 
for  a  camp.  It  was  not  long  before  they  settled  on 
a  spot  which  seemed  very  suitable.  Near  where 
they  had  built  the  fire,  the  clitf  ended,  and  the  side 
of  the  island  became  a  wooded  slope.  About  fifty 
feet  above  the  fire,  there  was  a  broad,  open  plat- 
form,  free  from  trees  and  covered  with  moss. 
Walking  on  beyond  this,  they  ascended  to  the 
edge  of  the  cliff,  where  it  stood  up  two  hundred 
feet  above  the  shore.  Here  grew  a  solitary  tree 
about  fifty  feet  high,  and  very  conspicuous  from  ita 
8 


;.  ! 


'i'  1 


;(  ■ 

<  '■! 
I 


a 


114 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


li; 


r.r 


m 


''11 


!. 


Ill 


II 


Ih      ';     1 


situation.  Around  it  tlio  rock  was  uncovered  in 
pluces. 

Tlio  discovery  of  tliese  places  filled  tliem  witli 
delight.  They  had  already  decided  to  build  a 
eanip,  and  the  platlorin  lirst  mentioned  seemed  to 
all  to  be  very  suitable. 

''  But  we  must  find  a  spring  somewhere,"  said 
Bruce,  who,  after  his  night's  rest,  declared  himself 
as  well  as  ever. 

"  So  we  must,"  said  Bart.  ''  Boys,  let  some  of 
us  hunt  up  a  spring." 

Off  they  went  in  different  directions,  and  soon 
every  one  was  shouting  out  a  discovery  of  water. 
In  fact,  in  that  damp  and  well-watered  country, 
springs  can  easily  be  found  on  every  hill-side. 
The  nearest  one  was  the  best,  and  by  breaking 
away  some  of  the  earth  and  digging  a  hole  with  a 
stone  in  the  clay  of  the  bank,  a  well  was  rudely 
formed,  which  was  suitable  for  all  immediate  needs. 

By  the  time  they  had  finished  these  explorations, 
the  tide  was  sufficiently  low  to  admit  of  a  search 
for  their  breakfast.  All  the  boys  went  off,  since  all 
were  equally  interested.  The  search  was  perfectly 
successful,  resulting  in  the  capture  of  thirteen  lob- 
sters and  a  great  quantity  of  shrimps.  Bringing 
back  their  prey  in  triumph,  they  heated  a  large 
number  of  stones  and  cooked  all  the  lobsters 
together,  partly  for  the  sake  of  keeping  them  bet- 
ter, and  partly  that  they  might  have  a  good  supply 
of  ready-cooked  provisions  on  hand. 


THE    RKD    SHIIJT    SKJXAL. 


115 


Do  yon   know,  boys,"  said    I*ln'I    Kciniody,  as 


?j 


T 

r> 

3 

S 

r 

y 


tlicy  sat  at  hruakliist,  "  I've  f;'ot  an  idea? 

''Good  for  yon.     Wliat  is  it?" 

*^  Wliy,  \V(!  on^lit  to  liavo  a  signal." 

''That's  truo." 

*'  Well,  my  plan  is  to  have  a  sip^nal  np  there," 
said  JMiil,  [)ointing  to  the  solitary  tree  on  the  top 
of  the  clilf. 

"  How  can  you  manage  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  turn  that  tree  into  a  flag-staff  by  cntting 
off  the  branches.  I  can  climb  it,  and  if  I  can  have 
the  hatchet  for  a  little  while,  I'll  promise  to  get 
every  branch  off." 

"  Well,  now,  Phil,''  said  Bruce,  "  I  call  tliat  a  first- 
rate  idea.     But  where  will  you  get  a  flag?" 

"  I'll  fasten  my  red  shirt  on." 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  all,  clapping  Phil  on  the  back. 
''Phil,  you're  a  genius." 

"  Talking  about  signals,"  said  Tom  Crawford, 
"a  ilag  won't  be  enough.  We  want  something  for 
nights  and  for  foggy  days.  We  ought  to  build  a 
heap  of  dry  brush  and  kindling,  and  be  ready  to 
light  it  at  a  moment's  notice.  Perhaps  it  would 
be  too  nuu'h  trouble  to  keep  it  going  all  night." 

"  Yes  ;  it  would,"  said  Bruce.  "  The  best  thing- 
would  be  to  have  a  pile  ready  to  light.  But  the 
first  thing  to  do  is  to  build  our  camp,  and  we'll 
have  lots  of  brush  ready  for  the  pile.  Phil  can 
have  the  hatchet  to  trim  the  tree  after  we  have 
cut  the  poles  and  things  for  the  camp." 


1  I 


( 


116 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


"  Wliat  kind  of  ;i  cainj)  shall  we  have  ?  " 

"  A  wigwam." 

''  Whoro'll  we  get  the  hirch  hark?" 

"  Explore  the  ishind." 

"That'll  take  too  much  time.  We  want  a  camp 
to-day,  and  a  camp  we  must  have.  The  best  way 
will  he  to  build  un  ordinary  one  of  poles  and  spruce 
brush,  and  iiiter  that  is  built,  we  can  look  about  for 
birch  bark." 

"And  then  I've  got  my  oar  to  finish,"  said  Ar- 
thur, who  had  been  working  on  it  at  intervals  all 
the  morning. 

•'  Well,"  said  l>art,  "  su]>poso  we  go  to  work  at 
the  camp  first.  We'll  want  something  to  fasten  it 
with.  If  you  like,  I'll  go  and  hunt  after  some  roots 
that  I  know  of     They'll  do  first  rate  for  ro})es." 

"  All  right ;  and  we'll  go  and  cut  the  poles." 

Olf  they  went,  ft)ur  t)f  them  after  polos  and 
brush,  and  Bart  after  roots  for  ropes.  The  hatchet 
served  to  cut  the  poles,  and  the  knives  to  trim 
them.  Four  industrious  boys,  working  diligently 
at  this,  soon  laid  low  a  large  number  of  straight, 
slender  maple  trees  and  an  immense  quantity  of 
fir  branches.  These  they  all  dragged  to  that  plat- 
form which  they  had  selected  as  the  site  of  their 
house,  and  then  looked  about  to  find  the  best  situ- 
ation for  the  temporary  camp.  As  they  expected 
to  build  a  better  one,  they  chose  a  place  which 
would  not  interfere  with  any  future  operations. 
It  was  at  the  rear  of  the  platform.     Four  trees 


CAMI'-HUILDINO. 


117 


m 

y 

t, 

f 

ir 
u- 
d 
h 

,s. 
es 


p^row  there,  at  nearly  ecjiial  distanees,  in  the  form 
ofa  sfjuare.  Tlioy  (Icterniincfl  to  adopt  these  trees 
as  part  of  the  frame  of  thc^  (.•am|>,  and  nse  them  as 
eorner  r)osts.  JJart  had  snccecMled  in  findin;jj  an 
immense  (piantity  of  lon^,  flexible  roots,  some  of 
whieii  were  sassal'ras  roots,  others  the  lon^  roots 
of  willow  trees,  and  all  very  tough  and  strong. 
First  of  all,  they  laid  four  of  their  strongest  j)o'es 
from  tree  to  tree,  the  rear  pole  being  about  eight 
feet  high,  and  the  front  one  five  feet.  The  side 
j)oles  sloped  up  from  front  to  rear.  There  they 
stuek  a  large  number  of  polos  into  the  ground  in 
front,  on  the  isidos  and  in  the  rear,  about  a  foot 
apart,  leaving  spaee  for  a  door  and  a  window. 
Then  they  laid  poles  over  the  top  erosswise,  so  as 
to  form  a  good  foundation  for  a  roof.  All  these 
were  firndy  fastened,  so  that  at  last,  when  the 
frame  was  eom})leted,  it  was  as  secure  as  though 
it  had  been  nailed  together  ;  in  fact,  much  more  so. 
So  far,  all  had  been  well  and  successfully  accom- 
plished ;  but  the  next  task  was  a  more  difhcult  one. 
This  consisted  in  interweaving  fir  brush  between 
the  poles,  so  that  they  should  be  firm  and  strong. 
Beginning  at  the  bottom,  each  bush  Avas  carefully 
inserted  and  pressed  as  closely  down  as  possible. 
It  was  a  tedious  process ;  but  the  five  industrious 
boys  worked  unweariedly,  and  at  last  had  the  sat- 
isfaction of  seeing  the  rear  and  the  right  side  com- 
pleted. Then  they  concluded  to  rest  for  a  while 
and  dine. 


is- 


HI  "^ 


11 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


Cold  lobster  and  cold  water  were  all  the  fare  that 
they  could  command  ;  but  they  ate  witli  a  good 
ap])ctite,  and  greatly  enjoyed  the  brief  respite  from 
their  hard  work.  Alter  this  was  over,  they  re- 
turned to  their  task,  and  at  length  completed  the 
front  and  the  left  side. 

Now  the  roof  remained.  This  was  the  most 
diflicult  task  of  all.  Tiiree  boys  went  on  the  roof, 
and  two  below  handed  up  brusli  as  fast  as  it 
was  required.  Tliey  began  at  the  lower  side  in 
front,  and  inserted  the  brush  so  as  to  lie  along  the 
slope  of  the  roof  like  tiiatch.  The  butt-end  of 
each  busli  was  inserted,  and  the  brush  ends  pro- 
jected. The  flat  branches  of  fir  trees  are  of  such 
a  nature  that  they  will  lie  very  close  to  any  surface 
on  which  they  may  be  placed.  These  brushes  were 
all  placed  in  d  )able  layers;  each  ui)])er  row  over- 
lapped the  lower  one  ;  and  thus  a  roof  was  formed 
thick  and  close  enough  to  turn  any  ordinary  lall 
of  rain,  though,  of  course,  it  could  not  be  expected 
to  keep  out  the  water  in  case  of  a  prolonged  storm. 
After  the  loof  was  all  covered,  the  last  brush  at 
the  upper  edge  was  intertwined  with  others 
which  were  placed  across  them,  and  these  again 
were  all  securely  fastened  to  the  poles  below. 

Then  their  spruce  camp  was  finished,  and  was 
almost  an  exact  counterpart  of  the  one  which  they 
had  built  in  tb.e  woods.  They  had  done  it  well 
and  quickly,  for  long  practice  in  this  work  in  their 
own  woods  hnd  given  them  great  skill  in  the  con- 
Btruction  of  such  buildings  as  these. 


MAKINO    A    FLAG    STAFF. 


119 


Tlio  last  tliiiif;*  to  atteml  to  was  the  beds. 
All  the  briisji  that  remained  was  hrou^-ht  inside, 
and  laid  len«;thwise  at  the  rear  of  the  camp. 
Then  they  went  into  the  woods,  and  gathered 
an  innnense  quantity  ot"  dry,  soft  moss,  wliieh 
they  s])read  over  the  s|)ruce  brush.  In  this  way 
they  formed  a  bed  large  enough  for  the  whole 
party,  as  soft  as  a  hair  mattress,  and  as  good  as 
anything  can  be  for  the  repose  of  a  weary  frame. 

This  com})leted  their  work,  and  it  was  not  yet 
sundown.  They  had  worked  nobly ;  and  when 
they  stood  out  on  the  platform,  and  regarded  their 
handiwork,  their  delight  burst  forth  in  ringing- 
cheers. 

And  now  Phil  claimed  the  hatchet,  so  as  to  carry 
out  his  cherished  j)urpose  of  forming  a  signal  staff. 
Til'?  others  all  went  up  to  watch  him  at  his  work, 
riiil  climbed  up  without  any  difficulty,  and  began 
at  the  up[)er  branches,  cutting  away  on  a  level 
with  his  waist,  and  using  the  lower  ones  to  stand 
on.  Piiil  was  skill'ul  with  his  hatchet ;  the  branches 
were  not  large,  and  came  turabling  down,  beneath 
his  strokes,  with  great  rapidity.  These  the  boys 
below  gathered  together,  and  heaped  u])  in  a  pile, 
at  a  suilicient  distance  otf  to  burn  without  injury 
to  the  signal  stalf,  and  yet  in  such  a  situation  that 
any  flame  would  be  conspicuous  to  those  on  the 
sea.  The  woik  was  soon  accom})lished;  the  last 
branch  fell,  and  Piiil  descended  to  the  ground. 
Where  the  tree  had  lately  been  there  now  arose  a 


Pi' 


II. 


120 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


tall  staff,  naked,  and  ready  to  bear  at  its  summit  a 
red  shirt,  a  pair  of  trousers,  or  anything  else 
which  the  fancy  of  Phil  might  suggest  as  suitable 
to  the  place  and  the  occasion. 

Meanwhile  Arthur  had  gone  to  the  beach,  and 
returned  with  an  armful  of  shavings  and  choppings 
from  the  wood  which  he  had  been  trying  to  fashion 
into  an  oar.  They  were  dry  and  fine,  and  were 
intended  to  serve  as  kindling  whenever  the  time 
might  come  for  kindling  the  signal  fire. 

And  now  one  thing  more  remained  to  be  done. 
They  had  decided  to  have  their  fire  on  the  platform 
in  front  of  the  camp  —  a  place  which  was  greatly 
superior  to  the  beach  for  such  a  purpose,  and  which 
also  would  give  them  the  advantage  of  a  warm  fire 
on  a  cool  evening,  and  a  light  close  by  their  dwell- 
ing-place. 80  they  went  out  to  collect  drift-wood, 
and  carried  up  a  large  quantity  to  the  place. 
Good  stones  were  also  selected  for  cooking  pur- 
poses, and  the  cold  lobsters  were  carefully  brought 
from  the  beach,  and  deposited  in  the  camp.  But 
the  labor  of  carrying  the  drift-wood  up  the  steep 
bank  showed  them  that  it  would  be  as  well  not  to 
be  too  lavish  with  their  fuel.  In  order  to  have  the 
cheerfulness  of  brilliant  liglit  along  with  the  grate- 
fulness of  warmth,  they  cut  a  quantity  of  brush, 
which  they  intended  to  throw  on  the  fire  from  time 
to  time.  Thus,  with  a  comfortable  camp,  and  soft 
beds  of  moss,  and  T)lentv  of  fuel,  and  a  pleasant  fire, 


I 


with    food   and   drink,  with   fine  weather   and   a 


1 


a 


I 


1 


i 


TOO   MUCH   L0F3TER. 


121 


charming  view,  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C."  might  be  con- 
sidered as  tolerably  happy. 

And  so  they  would  have  been,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  one  thing  —  a  thing  wliicli  revealed  itself  to 
them  during  their  evening  repast,  and  soon  threw 
a  gloom  over  their  prospects. 

It  was  dark  ;  the  fire  was  lighted,  and  threw  out 
a  cheerful  glow  ;  tlie  cold  lobster  was  brought  out, 
and  the  boys  began  to  partake.  For  some  time 
nothing  was  said.  At  last  the  silence  was  broken 
by  Bart.  He  had  been  twisting  a  leg  of  tlie 
lobster  fastidiously  in  his  fingers,  and  nibbling 
little  morsels  of  it,  in  a  way  which  did  not  look 
vftry  much  like  the  fashion  of  a  hungry  boy  who 
had  done  a  good  day's  work,  when  suddenly  he 
flung  the  lobster's  leg  into  the  fire. 

"  I  can't  stand  the  abominable  stuff  any  longer,'^ 
he  cried. 

"  Neither  can  I,"  said  Bruce. 

"  Nor  I  "  —  "  Nor  I  "  —  "  Nor  I"  —  said  all  the 
others  ;  and  the  fragments  of  the  lobster  were  all 
contemptuously  thrown  away. 

''  What  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ? "  asked 
Tom  Crawford,  mournfully. 

"  I  wouldn't  care  if  there  was  even  a  raw  po- 
tato," said  Bart,  "  or  a  mouldy  ship-biscuit,  or 
an  old  dried  turnip,  or  a  bit  of  pork,  or  anything 
else  to  eat  with  it  so  as  to  take  off  tlie  edge  of  it ; 
but  to  eat  nothing  else  but  this  everlasting  lobster, 
lobster,  lobster,  is  more  than  I  can  stand." 


11 
ll 


122 

J.  ^^ 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


"  Tea  last  niglit,"  said  Tom  Crawford,  dolefully, 
"  lobster.  Breakfast  this  moriiiiig,  lobster.  Dur- 
ing the  morning  I  felt  hollow  —  lobster.  At  dinner, 
lol)ster.     For  my  part,  I've  had  enough  of  it." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  tired  of  slirimps." 

"  Bother  shrimps." 

"  0  for  a  good  slice  of  bread  and  butter  !  " 

"  Or  a  good  mealy  })otato  !  " 

"  Or  a  beefsteak  !  " 

"  Or  crackers  and  cheese  !  " 

"  Wliat  are  we  going  to  do?  We'll  have  to  eat 
lobster,  or  starve." 

"  I  feel,"  said  Phil,  ''  tliat  I'm  growing  to  be  a 
lobster  myself;  my  skin  is  turning  (|uite  hard." 

"  I'm  beginning  to  lose  faith  in  desert  islands," 
said  Arthur. 

"  Yes,  —  they're  a  fjxilure." 

"  But  how  do  we  know  ?  "  said  Bart.  "  We 
haven't  explored  yet.  We  don't  know  half  of  what 
may  be  on  the  island." 

"  We  know  pretty  well  what  there  is,"  said 
Bruce.  "  Spruce  trees,  maple  trees,  moss,  and 
rocks,  —  that's  about  all." 

^'  Unfortunately,  it  isn't  a  South  Sea  island,  and 
so  we  can't  expect  to  pull  cocoa-nuts  from  the 
trees,  or  have  bread-fruit  for  our  breakfasts. 
There  are  no  mangoes,  no  bananas,  no  oranges,  no 
grapes,  no  nothing,  unless  we  choose  to  eat  bark 
tind  fir  cones." 


A    CHANGE    OF   DIET. 


123 


"  Tlie  next  time  we  try  a  desert  island,  boys,  I 
move  that  we  make  tracks  for  the  Pacific  Ocean," 
said  Arthur. 

"  I  second  that  motion,"  cried  Phil. 

"  It's  rather  odd,"  said  Bart,  "  that  all  of  us 
should  ^ct  tired  of  lobster  at  the  same  time." 

''  It  would  1)0  odder  yet,"  said  Tom,  '^  if  any  of 
us  had  been  able  to  stand  it  any  lonfi;er." 

'^  That's  about  the  thing,"  said  Bruce. 

"  And  so  the  question  remains  yet,"  said  Arthur, 
"  What  are  we  going  to  do?  " 

No  one  answered.  They  all  sat  looking  at  the 
fire.  Pliil  seized  some  brush  and  flung  it  on  ;  the 
flames  caught  it,  and  crackled  through  it,  and 
daslied  up  fiercely  and  brightly,  lighting  up  five 
very  hungry,  very  tired,  and  very  discontented 
faces. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Bart  at  last,  starting  to  his 
feet.     "Hurrah!     Ihavelt!" 

"What's  that?" 

"  Gulls'  eggs  ! "  said  Bart. 

"  Not  bad,"  said  Bruce.  "  At  any  rate  we  can 
try  it.  Perhaps  we  may  find  some  young  gulls. 
They  eat  young  rooks  in  p]ngland ;  why  shouldn't 
young  gulls  be  good  ?  " 

"  We'll  try  it  to-morrow,"  said  Tom. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Bart,  "  it  all  comes  to  this. 
We  must  explore  the  island.  I've  got  my  pistol. 
Who  knows  what  may  turn  uj).  We  may  come 
across  lots  of  rabbits,  or,  at  any  rate,  wild  fowl. 


:i 


m 


m 


B 


m.  ^  ^ 


If  ?»i,j 


ii 


'I 


124 


THE   B.   0.   W.    C. 


Come,  now,  things  are  not  so  bad  after  all.  To- 
morrow will  show  us  what  the  chances  are  for  our 
dinner  table." 

This  was  now  the  only  consolation  they  had. 
The  lobsters  had  grown  abhorrent,  and  they  could 
not  think  of  touching  them  any  more.  Hungry  as 
they  were  after  all  their  hard  work,  they  threw 
aside  the  only  food  that  they  could  get.  They 
were  compelled  to  go  supperless  to  bed,  and  there 
dream  of  more  agreeable  food.  Fortunately, 
though  they  could  not  eat,  they  could  sleep ;  and 
soon  all  were  wandering  far  away  in  the  land  of 
Nod. 


SEARCH   FOR   GULLS'    EGGS. 


125 


IX. 


Exploring.  —  A  wild  Walk.  —  On  the  Lookout  for 
Prey. —  JVJiat  is  it? — Is  it  a  wild  Goose'/  — 
Tremendous  Sensation,  the  Explorers  being  as 
mucli  astounded  as  Eobinson  Crusoe  was  when 
he  discovered  the  human  Footprints  in  the  Sand. 


<!' 


N  the  following  morning,  all  wore  up  by  day- 
break, and  Bruce  could  think  of  nothing 
but  gulls'  eggs.  In  the  desperate  extremity 
of  hunger  to  which  they  were  reduced  through 
their  dislike  to  lobsters,  they  determined  to  make 
a  search  along  the  clift's  for  nests.  They  walked 
along,  and  at  length  came  to  a  place  where  some 
nests  had  been  built.  They  found  a  large  number 
of  eggs  here,  and  appropriated  them  all.  On  cook- 
ing them,  they  found  them  of  a  peculiar  flavor,  yet 
eatable,  and  they  congratulated  themselves  on 
their  good  luck. 

They  now  determined  to  put  into  execution 
their  cherished  plan  of  exploring  the  island.  One 
was  to  stay  behind  to  attend  to  the  signal,  and  lots 
were  drawn  to  see  who  it  would  be.  It  fell  on 
Phil,  who  at  once  accepted  his  task  with  great 


1 1 


r  [i 


1^ 


M. 


\m 


'.I  ■! 


'•  i! 


I^ii       '!« 


i* 


■     ! 


i 


126 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


cheerfulness,  and  infornied  tliom  tluit  lie  would 
make  an  omelet  on  a  hot  stone.  In  this  pleas- 
ing occupation  they  left  him,  and  went  into  the 
woods. 

They  found  the  woods  here  precisely  like  those 
of  the  other  island.  Fir,  and  spruce,  and  maple 
grew  densely  together,  and  beneath  all  there  was 
a  thick  underhrush,  with  fallen  trees,  and  ferns, 
and  moss.  Progress,  under  such  circumstances, 
was  exceedingly  diflicult ;  but  they  knew  that  the 
island  was  quite  small,  and  so  they  kept  on  their 
way.  The  grounds  continually  ascended  for  a 
Jong  distance,  and  this,  of  course,  added  somewhat 
to  the  difficulty  of  the  journey  ;  but  at  last  the 
ascent  ceased,  and  they  knew  that  they  were  on 
the  summit  of  the  island.  Nothing  could  be  seen, 
however.  So  thick  was  the  forest,  that  it  shut  out 
all  the  view  ;  nor  was  it  of  any  use  to  climb  a  tree, 
for  all  were  of  neai'ly  equal  size,  and  if  they  were 
to  climb  up  as  far  as  they  could,  they  would  only 
find  the  view  obstructed  by  the  tops  of  trees  grow- 
ing around.  So  they  kept  on  their  way,  and  found 
the  ground  descending  continuously  in  an  easy 
slope.  The  wood  was  as  dense  as  ever,  and  no 
living  thing  appeared.  They  had  started  with 
vague  ideas  of  meeting  Avith  hares  or  wild  fowl, 
but  thus  far  nothing  had  been  visible  except  the 
gulls  overhead.  They  began  to  think  that  there 
was  nothing  but  gvdls  on  the  island.  Bart,  how- 
ever, assured  them  that  they  could  not  judge  as 


,1 

i 

1 


J 


BART    riXnS    SOMKTIII\(;. 


127 


yet,  and  expressed  liis  iinsluiken  confidence  that 
ho  Would  start  a  rabbit  before  the  day  was  done. 
He  had  liis  pistol  in  his  belt,  and  he  was  determined 
to  use  it  before  going  home,  even  if  he  had  to  shoot 
a  gull.  80  they  kept  on  down  the  descent,  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  come  in  sight  of  the  bay. 

At  last  the  woods  grew  thinner,  and  before  them 
they  saw  the  sky  through  the  trees.  Moving 
farther  forward,  the  trees  grew  more  scattered, 
and  in  a  short  time  they  found  themselves  at  the 
top  of  a  long,  open  ground,  wliich  sloped  to  the 
bay,  and  was  overgrown  with  moss  and  low  brush- 
wood. At  the  farther  end  of  the  open,  a  small 
eminence  arose,  with  some  bushes  on  the  summit. 
IJefore  them  the  waters  of  the  bay  spread  out, 
with  the  distant  horizon  skirted  by  a  range  of 
hills. 

''  Here's  the  place  for  rabbits,"  said  Bart,  "  if 
there  are  any." 

"  If  there  are  any !  Of  course,"  said  Bruce  ; 
"that's  the  point." 

They  walked  on  through  the  brush-wood,  and  at 
length,  reaching  a  mossy  knoll,  they  sat  down  to 
rest.  After  a  time,  Bart  started  off  alone  to  pursue 
his  investigations.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he 
stopped,  and  shrunk  back.  Then  he  looked  around 
with  a  triumphant  expression.  Then  he  moved 
forward  in  a  stealthy  maimer. 

"  I  wonder  what's  up  now,"  said  Bruce. 

"  Bart 's  found  something  at  last,"  said  Arthur. 


.•  I 


ii.  < 


!■■'  ( 

128 


TFIE    B.    O.   W.    C. 


*'  A  hare,  perhaps,"  said  Tom. 

The  three  boys  started  after  Bart.  Scarcely 
had  they  moved  a  half  dozen  paces,  when  Bart 
took  aim  and  fired.  A  loud  cry  was  lieard,  a  largo 
white  bird  was  seen  jumping  in  the  air,  and  falling 
to  the  ground,  and  then  Bart  ran  forward  and 
secured  his  prize. 

The  other  boys  hurried  up  to  him.  As  they 
came,  he  turned  to  meet  them,  with  a  face  flushed 
with  triumph,  and  holding  the  largo  white  bird  by 
the  legs. 

''  What  is  it  ?  "  they  cried. 

"  A  wild  goose,"  said  Bart. 

''  A  wild  goose  !  "  cried  Bruce,  who  had  reached 
him  by  that  time.     "  A  tame  one  you  mean." 

"  No  it  isn't,  either.  How  can  it  be  a  tame  one  ? 
It's  a  wild  one." 

"  No,  Bart,"  said  Arthur,  "  it's  a  tame  goose — as 
tame  as  I  am." 

''  You're  a  tame  goose  yourself,"  said  Bart.  "  Do 
you  call  that  a  tame  goose  ?  Why,  it's  a  wild  one, 
of  course.     Look  at  its  wings." 

^'  What  about  its  wings?  They're  tame  enough. 
No,  Bart,  it's  the  real  original  domestic  goose  of 
the  civilized  farm-yard." 

"  Nonsense  !  as  though  I  don't  know  a  tame 
goose  when  I  see  one." 

"  Well,  you  see  one  now." 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  This  is  one." 


m 


1 


A   GOOSE  AND   ITS   OWNER. 


129 


«  No." 

"  Yea." 

''  No." 

"It  is." 

"  Pooh  !  " 

"  Bart,"  said  Bruce,  "  did  yon  ever  see  a  live 
wild  ft-oose  ?  " 

"  No,  I  never  did." 

"  Alia  !  How  do  yon  know  anything  about  them, 
then  ?  " 

<<  Why,  I've  seen  pictures, —  lots  of  them, —  and 
they  look  just  like  this." 

"  But  I've  seen  wild  geese  living  and  flying,  — 
and  dead,  too,  lots  of  times,  —  and  this  isn't  one." 

"  0,  this  is  a  kind  that  you  are  not  acquainted 
with.  Why,  there  are  ever  so  many  kinds  of  wild 
geese." 

]5ut  at  this  moment  the  boys  were  rudely  in- 
terrupted. 

"  Aha  !  ye  thafes  of  the  wurruld,  ye  !  "  cried  a 
loud  voice  close  beside  them.  "  Ye  villains,  yc. 
What  are  ye  doin',  —  a  murdherin'  and  slaughter- 
in'  a  poor  man's  property.  Ye  blackgyards,  ye  ! 
What  d'ye  mane  by  comin'  here  and  shootin'  my 
geese  ?  " 

Thunderstruck  at  this  unexpected  interruption, 
the  boys  turned,  and  found  themselves  face  to  face 
with  an  old,  grizzled,  red-faced  little  Irishman, 
whose  furious  gestures  and  angry  eyes  were  di- 
rected menacingly  toward  them. 
9 


130 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


Ill 


1 , 


iiii 


"  Wlu'ch  af  yc's  shot  my  p^ooao  ?  "  lie  roared. 

"  1  did,"  said  Hart,  (luictly. 

"  Ye  youn^-  villain  !  I'll  make  ye  pay  for  it, — 
and  dear,  too,  —  as  sure  as  me  name's  Denny 
O'Raiierty.  AVIiat'r  ye's  doin'  liere,  any  how? 
Wliat  d'ye  mane  by  sliootin'  my  fi^oose  ?  H'ye 
tliink  I'm  goin'  to  ])e  robbed  })e  a  gang  of  blaek- 
gyards  ?  Be  the  powers  !  if  ye  think  that  same, 
ye'll  find  yo're  mistaken,  bad  seran  till  ye  !  " 

*'  Mr.  O'Raiierty,"  said  Bart,  '^  you're  quite  mis- 
taken. We're  honest  boys,  and  came  here  by 
accident." 

"  What  did  ye  slioot  tlie  goose  for,  then,  ye  imp 
of  mischief  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  mistake,"  said  Bart,  coolly.  "  Of 
course  I  didn't  know  it  was  yours,  —  in  fact,  I 
wasn't  aware  that  anybody  was  living  here.  I 
will  be  happy  to  pay  you  whatever  you  think  it's 
worth,  and  am  sorry  for  the  mistake." 

At  this  speech  O'Ralferty's  face  and  manner  un- 
derwent a  complete  change. 

"  Ach,  be  the  powers !  if  that's  all,"  said  he, 
good  humoredly,  "  then  we  won't  say  any  more 
about  it.  But  how  did  ye's  get  here  ?  I  didn't 
see  any  boat.     Where  did  ye  land,  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,  we  were  brought  here,"  said 
Bart,  who  went  on  to  tell  him  all  about  their  ad- 
venture. 

Dennis  O'Rafferty  listened  to  every  word  with 
intense  interest,  his  face  undergoing  a  perpetual 


IKl 


i 

I 


O'UAIKKUTY    IS    IIOSPITAHLE. 


i;u 


lal 


(']i!in}T:('  of  expression,  that  spoken  of  conflicting 
emotions. 

"  I>t^  tile  powers,  tlien,"  he  exelaiinecl,  as  Bart 
ceased,  "  it  was  a  narrow  scratch  tiiat  ye  iiad  ol"  it. 
An'  ye'vc  lu'cn  asliore  licre  two  ni;^Iits.  I>e  jai)ers, 
it's  niesclt'  that's  ashanie(l  (if  what  I  said  till  ye 
aliout  the  j^oose.  Have  ye's  iiad  anytiiing  till  ato 
thin,  at  all  ?  " 

"  Notiiin^-  l»nt  lol)ster." 

"  Loitster  !  Well,  thin,  h't  nie  inf'orrnni  ye's  that 
ye'll  find  that  a  nioi^hty  onwholesome  diet.  An' 
you've  been  here  all  that  time  wid  nothin'  at  all 
to  ate.  I>e  jahei's,  I'm  the  hoy  lor  yc'f^.  (/omo 
alonp:,  hoys.  Ve'll  find  old  O'Rallerty  can  fjive  ye 
a  hreakl'ast,  at  any  rate.  Come  alon^'.  Ye're 
starvin',  so  ye  are.  Me  old  woman  Ml  be  deloighted 
to  set  eyes  on  ye's.  Never  mind  the  goose  ;  I'll 
give  ye's  a  dozen  tor  nothin'.  I^ave  it  lie  there; 
the  old  woman  '11  come  an'  pick  it  lor  ye.  Come 
along,  boys." 

And  the  old  fellow  leil  the  way:  while  the  boys, 
delighted  at  the  turn  which  things  had  taken,  fol- 
lowed gayly  after. 

'^  And  so  ye'r  Docthor  Porther's  boys,  are  ye's?" 
continued  Dennis.  ^'  Faitli  it's  himself  '11  be 
throubled.  It's  a  long  time  I've  knowed  the  doc- 
thor. An'  there  isn't  his  shuparior  in  the  counthry. 
Arrah,  be  mi!  sowl,  but  it's  meself  that's  glad  to 
see  ye's.  The  sight  of  yer  young,  fresh  faces 
does  good  till  me  old  bones.     Come  along,  boys. 


'.-aj 


132 


THE   B.    0.    W.    V. 


And  is  tlio  doctlior  witli  ye's  in  tlio  schooner? 
('ome  along  ;  yc  liaven't  fur  to  p).  I've  got  a  bit 
of  a  house  around  beyant.  Ye'U  see  it  as  soon  as 
iver  wo  turrun  the  hilL" 

On  rounding  the  liill,  they  saw  a  clearing  of 
about  thirty  acres,  with  a  boat  drawn  up  on  the 
shore,  Avhile  close  by  them  was  a  small  house  and 
a  bai'n.  An  old  woman  at  the  door  looked  up  at 
them  in  speechless  amazement. 

"  It's  the  owld  woman,"  said  O'RaflTerty.  "  It's 
lierself  that's  dead  bate  at  the  sight  of  ye's." 

"  Lard  save  us,  Dinny,  what  in  the  wurruld  have 
ye  got  there,  thin  ?  "  cried  th(3  old  woman,  as  the 
party  reached  the  house. 

'•  It's  some  of  Docthor  Porther's  boys,  that's  been 
gettiji'  themselves  shipwracked  on  the  other  side," 
said  O'Raffertv,  "  and  liaven't  had  a  bite  to  ate  for 
two  days,  savin'  an'  exceptin'  a  bit  of  cowld  lobster, 
which  isn't  aisy  aitin'.  An'  however  they  got 
ashore  on  there,  widout  oars,  bates  me  intirely, — 
widout  countin'  that  thim  same  has  been  workin' 
like  slaves  a  day  or  more,  on  impty  stomachs, 
buildin'  a  camp  and  carryin'  fire-wood,  which  is 
hard  enough  work  to  kill  a  man,  let  alone  boys  like 
these.  And  so  stir  yer  stumps,  Molly  avick,  and 
bring  out  praties  an'  bacon,  the  best  ye  have,  and 
a  drawin'  of  tay,  an'  chayse.  an'  bread  and  butter. 
It's  starvin'  they  all  are  intoirely,  or  me  name'a 
not  Dinny  O'Raft'erty." 


1 

I 


MRS.    O'RAFFERTY    GETS   SUPPER. 


133 


I 


:i 


"  Ah,  thill/'  cried  the  old  woman,  '^  the  saints 
stand  betime  us  and  liarrnin.  What's  that  ye'r 
sayiii',  Diniiy  O'llallerty  ?  Is  it  shipwracked  ye 
wer',  tliin,  ye  darlin's  of  the  wurruld  ?  Sure  it's 
not  much  an  owld  woman  like  me  can  do  for  the 
likes  of  ye ;  but  I'll  give  ye  the  best  Tvc  o-ot,  so  1 
will.  Sure  an'  it's  starvin'  ye  must  be,  if  ye've 
had  nothin'  to  ate  for  so  lonj;'." 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  and  warmth 
of  welcome  which  O'Kaiferty  and  Iiis  wife  gave 
the  boys.  Tlie  old  woman  bustled  about,  and 
kindled  a  iire,  and  put  on  tlie  pot  and  kettle,  and 
laid  the  table,  occasionally  stopping  to  look  at  the 
boys,  one  after  the  other,  with  a  peculiar  fondness 
of  expression  and  a  low,  crooning  noise,  such  as 
nurses  make  over  children. 

''  Sure  it's  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air  to  a  captive 
in  a  dungeon  to  look  at  your  swate  faces,'  she 
cried.  "  Niver  a  boy's  face  have  I  seen  since  the 
dark  day  wdien  my  own  boy  took  his  swate  face 
from  me  eyes  foriver.  An'  that  was  fil'teen  year 
ago.  An'  we  came  here,  an'  lived  here  ever 
since." 

The  old  woman  gave  a  long  sigh,  and  sitting 
down,  she  held  her  head  in  her  hands,  rocking  her- 
self to  and  fro. 

"  Ah,  well,"  she  said,  getting  up  and  going  out 
to  the  barn,  "  it's  not  much  longer  to  live  we  have 
thin." 


134 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


m 


i.'JS 

i 


I    I    r 


'^  Fifteen  years,"  said  O'RalFerty,  as  his  wife 
went  out.  "  It's  fifteen  years  since  we  lost  tlie 
boy.  We  lived  in  rarrsl)()r(),  an'  liad  as  nice  a 
house  and  farm  as  tlie  likes  of  us  could  ever  wish 
for.  But  whin  we  lost  him,  we  lost  all  heart  for 
the  place.  The  old  woman  wud  have  died  if  she 
had  staid ;  an'  so  I  bought  this  bit  of  a  place, 
an'  what  with  farmin'  an'  fishin'  we  manage  to 
grub  along,  though  it's  seldom  or  niver  that  we  see 
anybody  but  our  own  two  selves.  Well,  well; 
wud  ye  like  to  look  at  the  place  ?  "  he  continued, 
rising.  ^'  It  isn't  much  of  ••  place  ;  but  it's  not 
long  we  have  to  live,  and  if    do  for  us." 

They  followed  the  old  man  about.  The  place 
extended  over  thirty  acres,  with  a  nice  beach  in 
front  for  the  boat.  It  was  an  easy  declivity,  with 
pasture  lands  behind  the  house.  The  boat  was  a 
large  whaler,  and  nets  were  spread  on  the  grass  to 
dry.  O'Hairerty  said  that  during  the  summer  he 
had  visits  sometimes  from  old  friends,  and  at  otlier 
times  people  landed  to  see  about  the  chances  for 
sporting  or  getting  minei'als  ;  but  never,  since  he 
had  been  there,  had  a  boy  been  on  shore,  and  his 
wife  had  not  seen  a  boy  since  she  lost  her  son. 
He   took   them  all  over  the  i)lace,  and  final 


1' 


.lly 


them  to  a  little  enclosure  not  far  from  the  house. 

e    mound,  and    at   the    head  a 


Inside   was   a  gra\ 

white  wooden  slab,  with  these  words  painted  uj)on 

it:  — 


GRIEF    AM)    SVMfATIIY. 


135 


I 


In  Mi'inoi'iam. 

M'u'hml  O'liajfcrty, 

Oclovt'if  .so//   ()/" 

DermiH  and  31(n'ij  0' U([jferty, 

horn  Ahaj.  2,  ISHO, 

died  June  5,  1845. 

JRcijuie.scat   in  Pace. 

Tlio  old  mail  stood  in  silence.  Ijiiruhcadcd,  look- 
ing" at  the  inscri))tion.  'J'iio  hoys  ivmovod  tlieir 
liuts,  and  looked  in  soleinn  sympathy  at  the  he- 
reaved  father,  whose  love  and  yeai'iiinj;-  for  liis  lost 
hoy  were  still  so  manifest,  that  the  sin'ht  of  a  l)oy's 
faee  could  renew  his  ti'rit'f  after  lifteen  vanished 
years.  Standing;'  thus  in  silence,  and  reverenciuji;' 
that  L;,'riel",  they  waited  till  the  (»ld  man  turned 
away,  and  then  followed  him,  without  a  word,  hack 
across  the  field,  and  into  the  house. 

As  they  entered,  th(^  savory  smell  of  hroiled 
hacon  came  iiratefully  to  theii'  nostrils.  IMie  tahle 
was  s|)read  with  delicious  mealy  jtotatoes,  hi'own 
crusty  hi'ead,  hulter  as  yellow  as  t^old,  and  clean, 
spotless  plates.  If  they  had  the  jtower  of  wishing- 
and  jLi^ainiuji;",  they  would  have  desired  nothing 
hetter  than  this. 

"  Mr.  (rUatferty,"  said  Bart,  suddtuily,  ''  1  forgot 
to  mention  that  we  left  one  of  our  luimber  on  the 
beach.  1  will  take  a  run  across  the  island,  with 
your  permission,  and  bring  him  here,  for  he  is  as 
hungry  as  we  are,  if  not  more  so." 


^%> 


i  : 


H 


136 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


"  Aiiotlier  one  !  "  cried  O'TJafrorty.  "  An'  waitin' 
on  the  beach  !     Wliy  dichi't  ye  tell  me  before  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see  we  were  tired  with  onr  scramble, 
and  I  wanted  to  get  rested  before  starting  back. 
But  I'll  go  now,  if  you've  no  objection." 

"  Deed,  thin,  an'  I  have  an  objection,"  cried 
O'Rafferty.  '*  D'ye  think  I'd  let  ye  go  starvin' 
back  agin  before  ye'd  got  a  bite  to  ate  ?  or,  for  that 
matter,  d'ye  think  I'd  let  ye  go  at  all  ?  No ;  I'll  go 
meself." 

"  You  ?    0,  no.    I  won't  allow  that,"  began  Bart. 

"  It's  meself  '11  go,  an'  nobody  else,"  cried 
O'Rafferty,  positively.  "  Ye'r  all  too  hungry  an' 
tired.  Besides,  ye  don't  know  a  step  of  the  way. 
Ye  came  through  the  woods,  an'  a  mighty  tough 
job  ye  found  it ;  but  I  know  an  aisier  way  —  it's  a 
path  of  me  own.  Ye  said  it  was  at  the  other  end 
of  the  island,  on  the  other  side." 

"  Yes  ;  at  a  rock  with  a  tree  on  the  edge." 

"  I  know  the  })lace  well.  My  path  comes  out 
close  by  there.   I  wonder  ye  didn't  come  across  it." 

"  It  is  a  wonder.  We  certainly  would  have 
noticed  anything  like  a  path,  if  we  had  found  one." 

"  Well,  it's  all  the  same  now.  Ye'll  jist  stay 
here,  an'  sit  down  an'  ate  yer  breakfasts  like  Chris- 
tians, an'  I'll  go  an'  bring  the  boy.  Not  one  of  ye 
shall  stir  a  step  —  not  one  step." 

"  Well,  Mr.  O'Rafferty,  I'm  sure  you  are  putting 
yourself  to  too  much  trouble  —  " 

"  Throuble  !     D'ye  call  it  throuble  ?     Sure  an' 


BH' 


n 


O'RAFFERTY    goes   for    PHIL. 


137 


isn't  it  the  brightest  day  I've  kiiowed  for  iver  so 
long?" 

''  Deed  it  is,"  cliimed  in  his  wife.  "  Bo  off  wid 
ye,  Dinny  dear,  and  hurry  back  with  the  poor  boy. 
Sure  I'll  keep  the  tay  hot  for  him,  an'  the  praties, 
an'  the  bacon." 

Any  further  remonstrance  or  objection  was  out 
of  the  question ;  so  the  boys  took  their  seats  at  the 
table.  Tlie  old  man  started  off,  and  promised  to 
be  back  in  a  "  jiffy." 

He  ascended  the  slope  behind  the  house,  and 
entered  the  woods  by  a  pathway  which,  though 
but  little  trodden,  was  yet  easy  to  traverse.  Far 
different  was  this  from  the  rough  way  by  which 
the  boys  had  crossed  the  island  ;  and  in  far  less 
time  than  they  had  taken,  Deiniy  approached  the 
other  shore.  The  pathway  led  down  to  the  beach, 
about  a  hundred  yards  below  the  place  where  they 
had  built  their  first  fire. 

As  he  descended,  a  singular  sight  met  his  eyes. 


t\  ■ 


in 


138 


THE  a.  u.  w.  c. 


! 


1  U  :ii    ii 

1^    '     ' 

X. 


Kew  AUem2Jfs  at  Coohery.  —  Phil  on  tlie  Loolzout. 
—  A  Sail!  A  Sail! — The  Sajnal  of  the  red 
Shirt.  —  The  Home  of  the  O^Iiaffertys. 

W'ttffE  left  riiil  bcliiiid;,  on  the  l)e{icli. 

After  the  others  had  departed,  Phil  oc- 
cupied himself  with  making  arrangements 
to  while  away  the  time.  First  of  all,  he  set  to 
work  to  try  and  make  an  omelet.  After  a  long 
search  on  the  beach,  he  found  some  clam  shells, 
which  he  took  up  to  the  platform ;  and  then,  se- 
lecting some  flat  stones,  he  threw  them  into  the 
fire.  Then  he  mixed  some  eggs  in  one  of  the 
shells,  and  tried  to  beat  them  with  his  jackknife. 
His  success  was  not  exactly  dazzling ;  but  he  was 
satisfied  to  a  certain  extent,  and  intensely  in- 
terested. At  length,  drawing  forth  one  of  tlie 
stones,  which,  by  this  time,  was  red  hot,  he  poured 
the  mixture  on  its  surface.  There  was  a  fizzle,  a 
steam,  a  hiss,  and  then  a  horrible  smell  of  burnt 
egg.  Phil  made  an  aAvful  face,  and  giving  the 
stone  a  kick,  sent  it  flying  down  to  the  beach, 
omelet  and  all. 


m 


rniL  MAKES  AX  OMELET. 


130 


Not  at  all  discoiiragod,  he  began  again  ah  ovo. 
Drawing  out  another  stone,  he  determined  to  give 
it  time  to  coul.  So  he  mixed  up  some  more  eggs 
in  the  shell ;  and  after  waiting  patiently  for  a  long 
time  for  the  stone,  he  at  length  thought  it  was 
cool  enough,  and  poured  the  nu'xture  uf)on  it.  It 
certainly  had  grown  cool  this  time  ;  in  fact,  some- 
what too  cool,  as  Phil  gradually  learned,  when,  after 
waiting  patiently,  he  found  that  there  was  no  ap- 
])earance  of  any  progress  whatever  in  the  cookery. 
So  this,  too,  was  a  failure,  and  l^hil  disdainfully 
hurled  it  after  its  predecessor. 

But  ho  was  not  discouraged  even  yet.  Once 
more  he  took  his  shell  and  made  another  mixture, 
and  then  drew  forth  the  stone,  and  carefully 
watched  it,  trying  it  from  time  to  time  with  the 
ti|)  of  his  finger,  to  see  if  it  was  of  the  proper 
temperature.  Having  singed  the  tips  of  all  his 
fingers,  he  concluded  that  it  was  time  to  stop  that 
mode  of  testing,  and  run  the  risk  of  an  actual  trial. 
So  he  once  more  poured  the  mixture  on  the  stone. 
Aha !  this  time  there  was  no  mistake.  A  pleasant 
steam  came  up,  which  was  grateful  to  a  I'amished 
boy.  The  only  trouble  was,  the  lower  part  was 
done  before  the  upper  was  in  the  least  alfected ; 
and  worse  still,  it  began  to  burn  while  tlie  upper 
part  was  raw.  Phil  was  not  yet  disheartened, 
however  ;  and  drawing  his  knife,  he  made  desperate 
efforts  to  insert  it  under  the  omelet,  so  as  to 
turn  it  over.     But  these  elforts  were  not  success- 


i!' 


T 


> 


140 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


\'\ 

m  jij  il 

1 

H    1^    SI ' 

1 

I    'L 

ful.  lie  only  succeeded  in  intermixing  all  to. 
gether  in  a  mess,  and  mangling  it  into  a  genernl 
mnsli.  In  trying  to  taste  some  of  it,  he  found  in 
his  mouth  nothing  but  a  very  unpleasant  mixture 
of  raw  and  burnt  egg.  With  a  sigh  he  relin- 
quished his  experiments,  and  sent  this  stone  after 
the  others. 

He  now  contented  himself  with  roasting  two  of 
them  ;  and  having  partaken  of  them,  he  sauntered 
up  the  hill  to  the  signal  station.  Here  he  lay 
down,  and  looked  lazily  out  at  the  water. 

Scarcely  had  he  done  so,  than  he  gave  a  start. 
An  object  was  before  his  eyes  Avhich  he  had  nt)t 
been  able  to  see  from  the  platform.  The  other  end 
of  the  island  could  not  be  seen  from  there,  because 
a  projecting  bank  shut  it  out  fi-om  view ;  but  from 
here  there  was  a  fair  view  of  the  other  islands. 
And  there,  just  coming  out  from  behind  Pinnacle 
Island,  was  a  schooner  of  the  size  and  rig  of  the 
Antelope,  and  he  did  not  doubt  for  a  moment  but 
that  it  was  their  schooner.  She  was  now  sailing 
along,  and  was  not  far  from  that  very  anchorage 
where  he  had  seen  her  last. 

With  a  shout  and  a  wild  beating  of  his  heart, 
he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  stared,  with  eager  eyes, 
upon  the  schooner. 

She  was  coming  on  very  Avell,  with  a  good  breeze, 
and  was  coming  in  his  direction.  Would  she  con- 
tinue on  her  course  ?  H'  so,  she  would  soon  bo 
there.     Would  she  turn  aside,  and  pass  through 


m 


A    SAIL    I\    SK.'IIT. 


141 


the  channel  tlisit  separated  tlie  islands,  or  sail  away 
to  the  main  land  opposite  ?  The  thou<i-ht  was  in- 
tolerable. IJe  had  grown  Aveary  of  desert  liie  ; 
he  longed  to  leave  the  island,  —  or,  rather,  he 
longed  to  get  something  to  eat. 

i^o  he  rushed  away  to  the  pile  of  bnisli,  and 
lighting  his  matches,  —  a  whole  card  at  a  time, — 
he  touched  up  the  kindling  wood,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  blaze  was  spreading  through  the  mass 
of  dry  brush.  Soon  the  flames  rose  high  into 
the  air,  bearing  with  them  vast  volumes  of  black 
smoke. 

Would  they  see  that  signal  ?  They  could  not 
help  seeing  it.  Would  they  understand  it  ?  Ah  ! 
that  was  another  question.  Still  it  came  on 
in  the  same  direction,  without  showing  any  signs 
of  turning  either  to  the  right  hand  or  tlu^  left. 
And  now  it  had  passed  the  channel  between 
the  islands,  and  Avas  coming  along  in  a  line  with 
the  beach  below,  and  not  more  than  half  a  mile 
out. 

The  brush  fire  was  burning  briskly,  and  could 
last  for  half  an  hour  without  replenishing  but 
something  more  was  needed.  What  could  he  do? 
At  first  he  thought  of  running  down  to  the  beach 
and  shouting.  But  then  he  feared  that  he  might 
not  be  seen  on  the  beach,  and  that  his  voice  might 
not  be  heard.  So  that  plan  was  rejected.  One 
only  remained,  and  that  was,  to  climb  the  signal- 
S'tafT.     In  an  instant  all  this  had  passed   through 


■■n* 


It 


.... .  I 


fii 


112 


THE  n.  o.  w.  c. 


his  mind,  jiikI  in  miollicr  instiint  it  was  actod  upon. 
IIo  torci  oil'  his  rod  shirt,  tied  tho  sluoves  tojLJjothor 
loosely,  and  imn^-  it  around  his  nock,  and  then, 
with  won(k;rl'ul  agility,  clinihed  the  tree  till  he 
reached  the  top.  The  stuni|)s  of  the  brandies, 
which  remained  on  the  ti'unU  ol"  the  tree,  formed  a 
good  footliold,  and  ]io  was  ahle  to  stand  securely, 
clas])in<j;-  tiie  tive  with  one  arm,  while  with  the 
other  he  took  his  sliirt  fi'oin  around  his  neck,  and 
waved  it  to  and  IVo  in  tlu'  air.  Ih'Iow,  and  about 
thirty  feet  on  one  side,  tlie  (ire  blazed  ;  and  there, 
lil'ty  I'eet  in  the  air,  on  that  solitary  tree,  stood  tho 
boy,  wavin,L>',  wildly  and  incessantly,  tho  brilliant 
scarlet  cloth.  lie  felt  that  he  had  done  the  best, 
and  if  this  would  not  attract  attention,  nothing" 
would. 

All  this  time  the  schooner  came  on,  and  at  length 
came  nearly  opposite.  Phil  saw  the  crowd  on 
board.  He  saw-  them  staring  and  gesticulating. 
Ho  Avas  recognized  —  he  was  safe  !  Yes,  there 
was  Mr.  Long,  —  he  knew  thiit  tall  figure  in 
black,  —  and  he  was  going  to  the  stern.  What 
for?  Aha!  wasn't  that  glorious?  He  had  gone 
and  had  seized  the  ropes,  and  lowered  and  hoisted 
the  flag  again  a  score  of  times.  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
What  flag?  AVhat  flag?  Why,  their  own  flag, — 
the  flag  of  the  ''  B.  0.  AV.  C.,"  — which  had  evi- 
dently been  waving  there  over  since  their  departs 
ure,  and  now  saluted  them  as  it  brought  tb.r;nsa+e> 


W 


THI-:  A.\Ti:i,()i'!';  a(;.\i\. 


U3 


iio 


'g- 


Phil's  TDcrrv  lauj^htcr  I'tiii};-  out  loud  nuil  clrar, 
as  lio  saw  all  tliis,  in  iiis  excitcMucnt  and  liis 
joy.  ITc  saw  tlio  s(;li()onor  head  in  straijj;lit  to- 
ward the  shore,  then  sweep  round  ;  and  tlien 
down  rattled  her  anchor,  her  sails  tell,  and  she  lay 
waitingo 

Phil  gave  a  final  wave  and  a  loud  shout ;  and 
then,  descending  the  tree,  he  scampered  down  the 
slope  and  along  tiie  l)each,  as  fast  as  his  little  legs 
would  carry  him,  until  at  last  he  reached  the  verge 
of  the  shore  opposite  the  schooner.  Here  he  gave 
a  loud  hurrah.  His  shrill  voice  reached  the 
schooner,  which  was  only  a  short  distance  off,  and 
was  responded  to  by  a  loud  cheer  from  all  on 
board. 

^'  Where  are  the  other  boys  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Long. 

"  In  the  woods  ;  they'll  be  here  soon." 

"  Where's  the  boat  ?  " 

"  Up  there,"  said  Phil,  pointing  to  where  it  lay. 

^'  We  can't  get  ashore.     We've  got  no  boat." 

"  When  the  tide  gets  up,  and  the  boys  come 
back,  we  can  get  the  boat  out,"  said  Phil. 

''  How  are  you  all  ?  "  cried  Mr.  Long. 

"  Very  well,  but  nearly  starved." 

Instantly  Mr.  Long  disappeared  into  the  cabin. 
Beturning  shortly,  he  had  a  bundle  in  his  hand, 
around  which  a  string  was  tied.  Then  taking  one 
end  of  the  string,  and  whirling  it  violently  around, 
sling  fashion,  he  hurled  it  through  the  air  toward 
the   shore.      The    parcel   fell    about   twenty   feet 


144 


THE  n.  o.  w.  r. 


1 

1        IJ 

m 

1      '  1 

''1  i 

l! 

i 

!t 

i 

beyond  Phil.  FIc  ran  to  it,  and,  on  oponinp^  it, 
ibund  a  fjuantity  ot"  sandwiches. 

The  ravenous  way  in  wliicii  he  devoured  the 
sa'^dwiches  showed  to  those  on  board,  far  more 
powerfully  than  words,  how  faniislied  poor  riiil 
must  have  been. 

"  Will  the  others  be  back  soon  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Long. 

"  O,  yes.  They've  gone  across  the  island  to  ex- 
plore." 

"  Were  you  able  to  sleep  ? '' 

"  Sleep  ?     0,  yes,  first  rate." 

"  How  ?  " 

*'  In  the  camp  up  there,"  said  Phil,  with  his 
mouth  full  of  sandwich,  waving  his  hand  in 
the  direction  of  the  j)latform.  "  We'd  have  en- 
joyed it  if  we'd  only  had  some  sandwiches,"  he 
added  after  a  time,  as  he  made  a  fresh  onslaught 
on  the  parcel. 

It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  not  quite 
half  tide  The  tide  was  rising,  however,  and  in 
due  tii>  .1(1  be  up  to  the  boat ;  and  then,  if  tlio 

bo^  .lot  come,  they  might  g©4  in  near  enough 

to  t  >\v  Phil  a  line,  and  from  the  schooner  pul' 
the  boat  into  the  water.  For  the  present  it  was 
necessary  to  wait ;  so  Phil  ate  his  sandwiches,  and 
talked  with  those  on  board.  And  this  was  the 
scene  which  met  the  eyes  of  Dennis  O'Rafferty  as 
he  descended  to  the  beach. 

Dennis  soon  understood  it  all.     He  saw  that  the 


i 


*  % 


THE   RESCUE. 


145 


ill 


t 

4 


Hclioonor  hud  been  soiiroliin^-  for  tlio  l)oyi=<,  and  liad 
come  iiiTo  ill  tlicii'  abst'iico,  Jiiid  liiid  luiiiid  tliis 
boy.  lie  luirritMl,  without  delay,  to  tlie  beach,  and 
at  onee  told  IMiil  where  his  IVieiids  were,  and 
explained  to  those  on  board  the  schooner  what 
they  were  doini:;,  and  why  he  had  come. 

"  An'  is  the  doctlior  on  board  ?  " 

''  No  ;  he  didn't  come." 

'^  All,  thin  it's  mesili'  that's  sorry  for  that  same," 
said  Dennis. 

On  nnderstandinfj^  tlie  diflicnlty  about  the  boat, 
he  at  once  set  himself  to  work  remedying  it. 
lie  found  the  rollers  which  the  boys  had  used,  and 
the  ])oles ;  and  then,  with  Phil's  assistance,  he 
began  to  push  her  down  toward  the  water.  It 
was  iar  easier  pushing  her  down  than  it  had  been 
])ulling  her  up,  and  the  boat  soon  reached  the 
water's  edge. 

"  We  lost  our  oar,  and  we  were  making  another. 
I  don't  know  whether  you  can  use  it  or  not,"  said 
Phil.     "  Wait  here,  and  I'll  go  and  get  it." 

On  bringing  it,  Dennis  found  it  (juite  rough,  of 
course,  but  still  capable  of  working  the  boat  aK)ng. 
So  he  launched  the  boat,  and  Phil  jumped  in,  and 
Dennis  followed;  and  in  a  short  time  the  boat 
touched  the  vessel's  side.  The  current  just  here 
was  not  strong,  for  it  was  half  tide,  and  the  vessel 
was  very  close  to  the  shore.  Phil  was  dragged  on 
board  by  a  dozen  hands,  and  nearly  suli'ocated  by 
their  rapturous  greetings. 
10 


i 


p 


146 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


ii   ! 


Mr.  O'Railcrty  tlioii  explained  again  whore  tlie 
other  boys  were,  and  invited  all  on  board  to  come 
to  hi.s  house  and  meet  tliein.  His  invitation  was 
eagerly  complied  with.  Another  oar  was  found  on 
board,  and  soon  Messrs.  Sinmions  and  Long,  with 
all  the  boys,  wi-io  on  the  beach. 

Then  they  started.  Phil  insisted  on  showing 
the  camp  and  the  signal  station,  and  told  them  all 
about  their  experience  in  shell-fish  and  lobsters. 

Then  they  followed  O'Rafferty  across  the  island 
to  his  house. 

On  the  way,  Mr.  Long  told  Phil  all  about  the 
diirsmal  voyage  of  the  schooner  after  them.  After 
cruising  all  about  the  Basin  of  Minas  on  the  pre- 
vious day,,  they  had  decided  to  come  back  to  the 
Five  Islands,  and  search  along  the  shores,  with  the 
hope  of  finding  them,  or  at  least  some  traces  of 
them.  They  had  been  watching  the  shore  of  this 
island  so  closeiy,  that  they  had  seen  the  first  flash 
of  the  fire  on  the  signal  station.  When  they  saw 
the  red  shirt  by  it,  and  then  the  figure  climbing 
the  tree,  they  knew  that  their  search  was  at 
last  successful.  He  made  Phil  tell  him,  over 
and  over  again,  all  about  his  own  eventful  escape, 
and  shuddered  to  think  how  extreme  their  peril 
had  been. 

The  walk  over  O'Raflferfy's  path  was  a  most 
delightful  one  to  all.  The  fearful  cloud,  that  had 
BO  long  hung  over  them,  was  at  last  dis])elled,  and 
in   their   reaction    from   sorrow,   they   all   felt  the 


i 


J 


ost 

11(1 
lie 


i 


I 

i 


■f. 


h 


AT   o'rAFFERTY'S. 


147 


wildest  extreme  of  joy.  So  tlie  boys  went  on  with 
shouts,  {Uxd  songs,  and  laughter,  till  they  reached 
their  destination. 

There  the  otiiers  had  finished  their  repast,  and 
were  waiting  for  Phil.  Great  was  their  amazement 
to  sec  the  crowd.  At  once  all  was  explained. 
With  a  wild  cry  of  delight,  they  rushed  to  meet 
their  friends,  and  their  hands  were  nearly  ishaken 
olf  by  their  excited  comrades. 

Mr.  O'Kairerty  then  left  them,  and  :\Irs.  O'RalTerty 
prepared  a  repast  for  the  company.  But  first  slie 
set  before  Phil  the  good  things  that  she  had  been 
saving  for  him  ;  and,  though  that  young  gentleman 
had  disposed  of  an  immense  (quantity  of  sandwiches, 
he  yet  was  able  —  thanks  to  his  excellent  appetite 
and  vigorous  constitution  —  to  do  full  justice  to 
Mrs.  O'Halferty's  tea  and  cream,  and  brown  crusty 
bread  and  golden  butter,  and  rich  bacon,  and  mealy 
potatoes.  Then  the  table  was  once  more  s{)read 
for  the  other  guests  ;  and  they  found  the  re])ast 
an  agreeable  change  from  the  ship  stores  on  which 
they  had  been  feeding.  To  tell  the  truth,  there 
were  many  among  the  company  who  were  as 
famished,  and  had  eaten  quite  as  little,  during  the 
last  twenty  or  thirty  hours,  as  the  castaways  them- 
selves. 

They  then  strolled  about  the  fields  and  along 
the  beach,  till  suddenly  a  shout  from  one  of  the 
boys  attracted  the  attention  of  all. 

There,  coming  round  the  point,  was  the  familiar 


I 
I. 


f 


» 


::ii 


I  ■,: 


!| 


^ 


i     ;i 


•  ii 

1 11 


' 


l\ 


I  .'9 


!     i'i 


n 


I    '  ^tt 


148 


THE  B.   0.   W.   C. 


form  of  the  Antelope,  lier  boat  towed  behind  her 
once  more  ;  Captain  Corbet,  the  mate,  and  O'Hafl 
ferty  on  board,  and  the  black  flag  of  the ''  B.  O.  W.  C." 
floating  gloriously  aloft. 

"  It's  been  there  all  the  time,"  said  Billymack. 
"  W{  sn't  it  odd  ?  Mr.  Long  wouldn't  let  any  one 
pull  it  down." 

"  And  all  the  schooners  laughed  at  us,"  said 
Bogud.     "  It  was  such  nonsense." 

"  Nonsense  ?  "  said  Bart.  "  Far  from  it,  Bogud. 
There's  good  luck  in  that  emblem.  So  long  as  it 
floats  on  the  breeze,  we'll  turn  out  all  right." 

''  If  you  call  this  good  luck,  I  should  like  to 
know  what  bad  luck  is." 

Here  the  anchor  rattled,  and  all  the  boys  ran  to 
the  beach. 

When  the  time  came  for  them  to  leave,  O'Raf- 
ferty  was  in  despair.  He  wanted  them  to  stay  at 
least  one  night.  But  Mr.  Long  could  not.  They 
had  already  lost  much  time,  and  must  make  amends 
for  it.  They  had  to  go  that  evening  to  Pratt's 
Cove.  So  O'Rafferty  consoled  himself  by  extort- 
ing a  promise  that  the  next  time  they  came  to  the 
Five  Islands  they  would  anchor  off  his  beach,  and 
stop  at  least  two  days  with  him. 

Meanwhile  the  boys  had  a  long  debate  as  to 
what  they  could  give  to  O'Rafferty.  To  ofler 
money  would  be  an  insult.  They  had  to  select 
from  among  their  possessions  something  that  would 
be  appropriate  for  a  parting  gift.     Bart  proposed 


1 

I 


■^ 


AFLOAT    AGAIN. 


149 


is 

's 


to 


his  pistol,  but  it  was  considered  as  not  adapted  to 
be  of  use  to  C'Rallerty.  At  last  it  was  decided  to 
give  him  the  hatchet.  A  hatchet  would  always  bo 
useful ;  and  it  was  so  pretty  a  little  tool,  that  it 
would  be  in  itself  a  graceful  keepsake,  t^o  Bart, 
with  his  jackknife,  cut  into  the  handle,  very 
neatly,  the  initials  of  the  dilTerent  members  of 
the  ''  B.  0.  W.  C,"  and  handed  the  gift  to  the 
old  man. 

^'  You  won't  refuse  it,"  said  Bart,  "  will  you,  Mr. 
O'Raflerty  ?  "  And  he  explained  the  initial  letters 
to  him. 

Tears  started  to  the  old  man's  eyes. 

''  It's  fairly  heart-broken  I  am  to  part  wid  ye  ; 
but  I'll  take  the  hatchet  to  remember  yer  sweet 
fjices  by,  and  wid  the  hope  that  you  won't  forget 
owld  O'Raflerty.  And  many's  the  drame  I'll  be 
dramin'  about  yes,  till  me  owld  eyes  gets  a  look  at 
yes  again." 

'^  An'  may  the  blessin's  av  Heaven  go  wid  yes 
all,  ye  darlin's  av  the  worruld,"  ejaculated  the 
old  woman.  "  It's  meself  that'll  pray  for  yes,  that 
the  Lard  '11  stan'  betune  yes  and  liarrum.  I'll  bo 
lookin'  out  for  yes  all  another  year,  jewels  ;  an'  I'll 
have  such  crame,  chayse,  an'  such  maily  taters,  as 
ye  never  saw  tlie  like  of  before." 

The  old  couple  wrung  the  hands  of  all  of  them, 
and  watched  them  embark.  Soon  all  were  on  board. 
Then  the  anchor  went  up,  and  up  went  the  sails. 
The  schooner  started,  and  moved  slowly  away. 


Ill 


\  ' 


III 


150 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


Alul  as  sliG  moved  away,  tlie  boys  saw  the  old 
c()ii])lo  standing  on  tlie  beach  waving  farewells. 
Tliere  they  stood  till  tlie  vessel  rounded  a  prom- 
ontory which  shut  them  from  sight. 

They  were  on  their  way  to  Pratt's  Cove. 


iH. 


:i| 


i!i 


I 


i 


I 


XI. 

Praffs  Cove. — A  Dinner  Party. —  The  falMess 
Cook  and  Steward.  —  chmjH.  —  Sudden  and 
startluHj  Inter rui'f ion.  —  Stealing  a  Wood-pile. 
—  Overwhehninij  Pieee    f  InteUitjence. 


'IIE  wind  and  tide  Nvore  botli  ratlier  unfavor- 
able, and  it  was  late  before  they  reached 
Pratt's  Cove.  This  place  is  formed  l»y  tlie 
bed  of  a  creek  which  runs  up  from  the  bay,  and, 
like  all  the  streams  of  these  waters,  is  subject  to 
very  great  variations,  being  fordable  at  low  tide, 
but  at  high  tide  deep  enough  to  float  a  shij).  It 
was  half  tide  when  they  arrived,  and  the  schooner 
was  able  to  run  a  little  way  U[)  the  stream,  where 
she  anchored.  It  was  ipiite  dark,  but  they  could 
see  that  the  nearest  land  was  a  j)rojecting  ])oint, 
clear  of  trees,  and  promising  a  pleasanter  camping- 
ground  than  the  hold  of  the  schooner.  It  was 
therefore  unanimously  decided  to  go  ashore,  kindle 
a  lire,  and  pass  as  festive  an  evening  as  possible. 
The  shore  was  close  by,  and  in  a  very  short  time 
they  were  all  out  of  the  vessel.  I'leiity  of  fuel 
lay  there  in  the  shape  of  a  long  pile  of  dry  birch 


fl 


A    FESTIVE    EVENING. 


151 


Ill  Iti  !i 


!    i 


III  III 


'■TTf^i    11 


ii 


152 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


wood  which  lay  heaped  up  along  the  shore.  To 
this  they  helped  themselves,  kindled  an  enormous 
fire,  and  were  soon  seated  around  it,  waiting  for 
their  evening  repast. 

At  the  outset  of  the  trip,  Johnny  Blue  and  Sam- 
my Ram  Ram  had  been  a})pointed  steward  and 
cook,  owing  to  their  personal  application  for  those 
very  honorable  offices.  Their  duties  had  been  very 
light;  in  fact,  partly  on  account  of  rougli  weather, 
and  partly  owing  to  the  anxiety  of  the  previous 
day,  there  had  been  little  or  no  occasion  for  their 
services.  It  was  therefore  expected  that  on  the 
present  occasion  they  would  surpass  themselves 
and  astonish  everybody  by  the  brilliancy  of  their 
performance.  As  the  party  sat  round  the  fire 
waiting  for  their  repast,  they  all  anticipated  some- 
thing of  extraordinary  excellence,  and  were  impa- 
tient for  the  banquet  to  begin.  Sammy  and  Johnny 
Blue,  however,  made  no  very  great  haste.  In  fact, 
it  seemed  to  some  that  they  were  astonishingly 
slow,  if  not  reluctant.  Slowly  they  turned  over 
the  things,  slowly  they  opened  and  shut  the  boxes 
and  baskets,  and  very  slowly  indeed  they  took  out 
the  dishes. 

"  See  here,  you  fellows,"  cried  Bruce,  suddenly. 
"  You  don't  appear  to  be  aware  of  the  fact  that 
we're  all  starving." 

"  Hurry  up  your  cakes  !  "  cried  another. 

"  Come,  be  quick  about  it,  Sammy  Ram  Ram  I 
What's  the  use  of  being  so  particular  ?  " 


i  I 


1 


DINNER. 


153 


'^Tumble  out  the  tilings  any  way!  We  don't 
ivant  a  regular  set  table." 

Sannny  and  Jobnny  quickened  tlieir  motions  a 
little,  and  said  tliey  would  be  ready  "  in  a  minute." 

^leanwhile  Messrs.  Simmons  and  Long,  assisted 
by  the  devoted  J3ogud,  had  been  sorting  their  min- 
erals in  a  general  way,  and  wrapping  each  specimen 
in  paper.  Two  good-sized  baskets  were  filled,  and 
many  of  them  were  very  fine  indeed.  There  were 
some  fern  prints,  and  some  tracks  of  birds  on  sand- 
stone, which  Mr.  Long  had  found,  and  which  he 
regarded  with  the  tenderest  admiration.  There 
was  a  very  excellent  amethyst,  found  by  Mr.  Sim- 
mons, some  mica,  some  barytes,  and,  above  all,  a 
piece  of  quartz,  in  which  faint  flecks  of  gold  were 
visible.  It  was  taken  from  a  vein  which  ran  up 
the  clilf,  and  was  a  foot  or  more  in  thickness.  It 
seemed  to  promise  a  rich  gold  harvest  to  any  one 
who  might  choose  to  try  gold-crushing  in  so  remote 
a  ])lace. 

'I'he  tender  interest  excited  by  all  these  treas- 
ures, and  the  occupation  of  putting  them  into  sep- 
arate baskets,  had  so  fully  engrossed  their  thoughts, 
that  they  had  not  noticed  any  particular  delay. 
At  last,  however,  the  work  was  done ;  and  then  it 
was  that  Mr.  Long  thought  about  the  claims  of  ap- 
petite. 

He  started  to  his  feet. 

"  What !  "  he  cried,  as  he  looked  around ;  *•'  not 
ready  yet?     Why,  what's  the  matter?" 


I 


i 


t 

1 

p 

j 

'  1  ■ 

■ 

1^^ 

i  \ 

!• 

l\ 

di 

154 


THE  n.   0.  w.  c. 


"  In  a  niinuto,"  suid  Sammy  Ram  Ram. 

"  Yes,  yes  —  in  a  minute/'  chimed  in  Johnny 
Bhie. 

^'  A  minnte  ?  Well,  that's  longer  than  I  can  wait. 
So  come  along,  all  of  us  !  "  said  Mr.  Long,  advan- 
cing to  the  phice  where  a  cloth  had  been  spread. 

The  rest  all  followed. 

There  was  a  very  meagre  repast  —  in  fact,  but 
the  beginning  of  a  re])ast  —  before  them. 

"  Come,  hurry  up  ! "  said  ^Ir,  Long,  as  he  and 
Mr.  Simmons,  followed  by  the  rest,  threw  them- 
selves on  the  grass  anmnd  the  table-cloth.  '^  Fetch 
along  some  of  the  turkey  and  chickens  quick  ! " 

There  was  no  response.  Sammy  and  Johnny 
both  stood  looking  excessively  guilty. 

"  Come,  hurry  up  !  We  can't  eat  ham  and  bis- 
cuit.    Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

"Why  —  there  —  there  isn't  any,"  stammered 
iSarr-my. 

"  AVhat's  that  ?  "  cried  ^fr.  Long. 

"The  turkey  —  it's  all  gone,  sir." 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  Mr.  Long,  in  amazement.  "  What 
do  you  mean  ?  " 

And  twelve  astonished  faces  confronted  the  cook 
and  steward. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  the  cook,  "  you  see  we  ate  a 
good  many  before  we  started." 

"  Yes,  sir.  There  were  eight  turkeys  eaten  that 
evening  and  next  morning." 

"  And  fifteen  chickens,  sir." 


f 


A   REDUCED    BILL    OF   B'AIIE. 


15r) 


"  And  ton  mince  pies,"  added  the  steward,  gath- 
ering courage  at  the  sound  of  his  own  voice. 

"  And  all  the  cheese,"  responded  the  cook. 

"  And  most  of  the  tarts." 

''  And  a  good  deal  of  the  cake." 

"  And  a  good  many  of  the  ham  sandwiches,  and 
half  of  the  eggs,  '\nd  —  " 

"  And  ever  so  much  ginger  beer." 

"  The  boys  were  eating,  sir,  steadily  through  the 
night." 

"  And  through  the  next  day,  till  they  got  sick, 
and  couldn't  eat  any  more." 

To  this  all  present  listened  in  the  utmost  aston- 
ishment, and  without  saying  a  single  word. 

"  80  we  ate  most  of  the  things  before  we  left  — 
did  we  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Long,  with  a  sour  smile. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  many  turkeys  did  we  leave  with  ?  " 

"  Seven,  sir." 

"  And  how  many  chickens  ?  " 

"  Four,  sir." 

"  And  how  many  mince  pies  ?  " 

"  Eight,  sir." 

''  Have  we  eaten  all  these  since  ? '' 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,"  said  Jiggins,  "  all  day  yesterday  I  only 
ate  one  ham  sandwich,  and  to-day  only  a  turkey 
drumstick,  except  at  O'Rafterty's." 
'     *'  I  ate  a  mince  pie  yesterday,"  said  Billymack, 
"and  another  one  to-day  —  that's  all." 


tiy/ti 


•III 


I  i  ■  i 


mm 


!>•        1 


I 


'      i«8   . 

i     -1 


miu^i  ''* 


156 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


"  Well,  well,  I'm  not  iiifjiiirin^  into  what  yon  ate, 
boys,"  said  Mr.  Long,  g'ood-Inimoredly.  "  I  was 
only  amazed  to  find  tliat  our  stores  had  p;one  so  fast. 
We'll  have  to  live  on  clams,  or  ^o  home,  unless  we 
can  buy  some  provisions  here.  Well,  well,"  he  con- 
cluded, with  a  sigh,  "  we'll  have  to  attack  this  ham 
bone.    Here,  cook  ;  isn't  there  any  more  ham  left  ?  " 

''  One  more,  sir." 

"  Any  pie  ?  " 

"  A  half  of  a  mince  pie,  sir." 

"  Hm  —  well  —  we'll  have  to  wait  till  to-morrow 
■ —  that's  all.  It's  my  own  fault,  I  suppose.  I 
didn't  make  allowance  for  the  appetites  of  grow- 
ing hoys." 

"  Especially  of  the  cook  and  steward,"  growled 
Bogud. 

They  had  to  bear  with  their  disappointment  as 
best  they  could.  The  cook  and  steward  looked 
very  meek  and  subdued,  for  though  nothing  was 
said,  yet  they  felt  that  they  were  under  a  ban. 
The  repast  consisted  of  nothing  but  bread  and 
butter,  and  ham,  and  cold  water.  But  still,  as  they 
all  had  excellent  appetites,  they  ate  with  a  relish 
what  was  before  them,  and  had  no  trouble,  except 
about  provisioning  the  ship  for  the  future.  It  was 
tacitly  understood,  however,  that  Sammy  Ram  Ram 
and  Johnny  Blue  should  be  hencelorth  relieved 
from  these  onerous  and  responsible  duties. 

The  repast  was  at  length  finished,  and  Messrs. 
Simmons  and  Long  went  aside  to  take  another  look 


T  '  1 


THE   MATE    AND    HIS   WIFE. 


157 


at  tlicir  1)C'1()Vcm1  specimens,  und  spenilato  upon  tlio 
prohiihilities  of  <;-()I(l-uiiniii^'  at  tlio  Five;  Islands. 
Tlie  others  sat  ronnd  tiie  fire.  Captain  Corltet  sat, 
with  a  })atriarehal  smile,  surveying  tiie  young  faces 
around  iiim.  'J'lie  mate  sat  among  a  crowd  of  noisy 
lads,  who  were  trying  to  draw  him  out. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  continuation  of  some  statement 
which  he  was  making,  "  it's  true.     I'm  tellin'  —  " 

"And  that's  your  name  —  is  it?"  asked  Billy- 
mack. 

"  My  name's  Wade,"  said  the  mate,  "  an'  my  old 
'oman's  name's  Gipson;  and  ye'U  not  find  many  of 
that  name  in  this  counthry.     No,  sir." 

''  Jhit  how  can  your  name  be  Wade,  and  your  old 
'oman's  name  be  Gipson  ?  " 

"IIow?  because  my  name  is  Wade,  and  me  old 
'oman's  name  is  Gipson." 

"But  she's  your  wife  —  ain't  she?" 

"  My  own  wife  —  married  be  me  brother  the 
praste." 

"  Then  she  must  be  Mrs.  Wade." 

"  I  tell  ye  her  name's  Gipson." 

"  If  she's  your  wife,  she  nuist  be  named  Wade." 

"I  tell  ye  me  name's  Wade,  and  me  old  'oman's 
name's  Gii)son  ;  an'  ye'U  not  find  many  o'  that  name 
ill  this  counthry." 

And  so  the  mate  prosed  on,  unable  to  see  that 
his  wife's  name  was  the  same  as  his  own. 

And  now  fresh  wood  was  heaped  upon  the  fire. 
Some  went  olf  and  gathered  brush,  and  the  bright, 


M 


158 


TIIK  n.  ().  w.  c. 


I 


I  . ; 


1 1 


fliirinp^  flumo  burst  Ibrtli,  risiu;;-  fur  into  tlio  nky,  and 
throwing  a  vivid  light.  Tlicn  thoy  all  sat  round  it, 
watching  the  flamos  as  they  s»hot  up  and  illuniinated 
the  scene,  throwhig  a  gleam  of  radiance  across  the 
Avjiter,  and  lighting  uj)  the  old  schooner  as  she  lay 
afloat. 

'J'hen  a  song  was  proposed.  Cajjtain  Corbet 
opened  the  proceedings  by  one  of  his  own  })eculiar 
hiirnionies,  which  was  received  with  loud  laughter 
and  cheers.  Others  then  sang;  and  tinally  they 
called  on  Bart  for  ''  IJingo,"  a  favorite  song  with 
all.    !So  Bart  sang  Bingij,  and  they  all  joined  in  the 

chorus. 

"  A  farmer's  doj;  sat  on  the  floor, 
And  his  name  was  little  Bingo; 
A  farmer's  dog  sat  on  the  floor, 
And  his  name  was  little  Bingo. 

Bart.     B ! 

Bruce.       I ! ! 

Arthur.        N  : : ! 

Tom.  G  ! ! ! ! 

Omnes.  O!  O!  0!  0!  O! 

And  his  name  was  little  Bingo  I 

"  This  farmer  he  brewed  right  good  ale, 
And  called  it  rare  old  Stingo ; 
This  farmer  he  brewed  right  good  ale, 
And  called  it  rare  old  Stingo. 

BaH.     S ! 

Bruce.       T ! ! 

Arthur.        I ! ! ! 

Tom.  N  ! ! ! ! 

Phil.  G ! ! ! ! ! 

Omnes.  O!  O!  0!  O!  01 

And  called  it  rare  old  Stingo  1 


;;  1 


1'    V 


HY   JINGO.  151) 

BaH,  **  Now,  don't  you  call  this  a  merry  tale? 

Oinnes.  We  think  it  is,  hy  jingo  ! 

Jiart.  O,  don't  you  call  this  a  merry  talc? 

Omnes.  We  think  it  is,  by  jingo! 

Bart.     J ! 

Bruce.         I ! ! 

Arthur.  N!!! 

Tom.  G : ! ! ! 

Omnes.  O!  0!  0!  0!  0! 

We  think  it  is,  by  jingo !  " 

As  tlio  last  chorus,  roared  out  in  tremendous 
tones,  burst  into  the  air  and  ceased,  it  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  sudden  roar  of  thundering  laughter 
coming-  from  some  strange  voice  from  the  direction 
of  the  wood-pile.  In  an  instant  every  one  had 
started  to  his  I'eet,  and  looked  in  amazement  for 
the  cause  of  the  noise. 

There,  on  the  top  of  the  wood-pile,  stood  a  stout, 
burly,  red-faced  man,  laughing,  and  stamping,  and 
clapping  his  hands.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he 
could  gain  breatli  to  speak.  At  length  he  con- 
quered his  laughter,  and  shaking  his  fist,  he  bawled 
out,  — 

"  See  here,  you  young  rascals  I  What  do  you 
mean  by  coming  here  and  burning  up  my  wood? 
Hey ! " 

At  this  Mr.  Long  came  forward,  and  Captain 
Corbet  followed.  Mr.  Long  introduced  himself, 
explained  the  situation,  apologized,  and  offered 
to  pay. 

This  the  stranger  laughingly  listened  to. 


: 


Ei:. 


!   I'll, 

i, 

1 

\L 

iK 

Im 


; 


* 


-i  I 


l! 


1  ; 


160 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


"  Pooh,  pooh  !  Mr.  Long.  I'm  delighted  to  see 
you,  sir,"  he  said.  ''  Don't  apologize  for  the  wood. 
You're  welcome  to  all  of  it.  I'm  Captain  Pratt, 
and  I  want  you  to  come  up  to  my  house,  and  put 
up  there  as  long  as  you  like.  As  for  the  wood,  Pll 
give  you  free  liberty  to  ])urn  it,  on  condition  that 
the  l)oys  sing  that  song  again." 

Captain  Pratt  now  advanced  among  them,  and 
his  blulF  manner,  hearty  laughter,  and  stentorian 
voice  at  once  made  him  a  great  favorite.  He  in- 
formed them  that  he  was  the  owner  of  the  cove 
and  all  the  region  round  al)out ;  that  ho  had  a  saw- 
mill up  the  stream;  that  he  had  a  schooner  which 
was  away ;  and  finally  he  insisted  that  they  all 
should  go  at  once  to  his  house,  and  take  up  their 
quarters  there  for  as  long  a  time  as  they  liked. 

This  invitation  was  uuiinimously  accepted,  with 
thanks  from  the  teachers  and  cheers  from  the  boys. 
So,  leaving  Captain  Corbet  and  the  mate  to  extin- 
guish the  lire,  to  ])revent  danger  to  the  wood-pile, 
they  followed  Captain  Pratt  through  the  darkness 
to  his  house. 

It  was  a  small-sized  farm-house,  where  Captain 
Pratt  and  his  wife  lived  by  themselves.  lie  had 
three  beds,  into  one  of  which  he  proposed  to  put 
Messrs.  Himmons  and  Long,  leaving  the  other 
beds  and  a  huge  kitchen  sofa  for  il^e  twelve  boys. 
Captain  Corbet  and  the  mate  could  sleep  on  the 
vessel.  Tiie  boys  succeeded  in  packing  themselves 
away  in  some  extraordinary  fashion  or  other ;  and 


GETTING   SUPPLIES. 


161 


tliono'li  tlioy  Avould  liuve  liucl  far  more  real  comfort 
oil  board  of  tlie  seliooner,  yet  they  preferred  tliis 
for  the  novelty  of  tlie  thin^-. 

On  the  following  day,  the  first  care  was  to  secure 
a  sup])ly  of  provisions.  Captain  Pratt  had  a  I'ude 
sort  of  shop,  in  which  he  kept  supplies  for  the  mill, 
but  unfortunately  the  stock  was  low ;  bni  the 
schooner  was  expected  every  day  with  fresh 
stores.  All  that  the  shop  contained  at  present, 
was  some  meal  and  molasses,  with  a  box  of  to- 
bacco and  a  barrel  of  pork.  Out  of  these  they  had 
to  select  tiie  ship  stores  ;  and  as  they  had  only 
Hobson's  choice,  they  hud  in  some  meal,  molasses, 
and  jK)rk.  Captain  C^orbet  tried  hard  to  induce 
them  to  lay  in  some  tobacco  also,  but  Mr.  Long 
declined. 

Strolling  about  the  cove,  they  found  it  a  very 
pretty  place,  encircled  by  hills  which  were  covered 
with  hard-wood  trees.  A  stream  ran  from  among 
the  hills  into  the  creek,  supplying  it  with  a  little 
fresh  water,  which  at  low  tide  was  the  only  water  in 
its  bed.  Going  up  the  stream  a  short  distance,  they 
came  to  a  very  romantic  s])ot,  where  the  stream 
ran  through  a  narrow  gorge,  and  tumbled  over  a 
small  precipice,  forming  a  miniature  cascade  of  a 
very  charming  kind.  Here  the  boys  spent  a 
greater  part  of  the  day  in  fishing,  and  succeeded, 
after  six  hours'  laborie  effort  and  patient  waiting 
on  the  part  of  ten  of  them,  in  catching  five  very 
small  trout. 

11 


\im 


■\  } 


; 


1G2 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


ill 


After  getting  the  supplies  for  tlio  schooler, 
Messrs.  Simmons  and  Long  went  along  the  shore 
to  a  place  which  Captain  Corbet  told  them  of,  where 
they  expected  to  secure  some  i)ctrifactions.  Cap- 
tain Corl)ot  went  with  them  as  guide.  The  mate 
took  possession  of  the  barn,  and  slept  all  the  time. 

As  I'or  the  boys,  two  of  them,  Bogud  and  Billy- 
mack,  went  with  the  teachers  by  special  invitation, 
for  the  otiiers  preferrcul  remaining.  Six  hours 
were  consumed  in  tisliing,  and  the  remainder  of 
the  time  in  dawdling.  They  did  Pratt's  Cove  so 
thoroughly  that  there  was  not  a  nook  unexplored. 

On  the  folloAving  night,  the  "  B.  0.  W.  C."  de- 
cided to  quit  Captain  Pratt's  house  and  sleep  in 
the  schooner.  So  they  went  down  about  dusk, 
and  were  ])ut  on  board  by  Jiggins,  who  brought 
back  the  boat  to  the  shore. 

Messrs.  Sinmions  and  Long  did  not  return  that 
night,  nor  yet  on  the  following  morning.  About 
ten  o'clock  they  got  back.  They  were  met  by 
Captain  Pratt  and  the  five  boys  who  had  slept  at 
his  house.     They  had  very  serious  faces. 

It  seems  that  Cajjtain  Pratt  had  been  down  at 
eight  o'clock  to  call  the  boys  to  breakfast.  He 
found  tlie  schooner  gone,  and  on  the  mud  Hats,  left 
dry  by  the  tide,  lay  the  fluke  of  the  anchor  broken 
ofi'  short.  This  was  the  message  that  he  brought, 
ex[)laining,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  boys  had 
slept  on  board,  and  must  have  drifted  away  with 
the  schooner. 


vL.j 


STARTLING    INTELLI(JE^'CE. 


163 


T  n 


XII. 

On  the  Track  mjain.  —  FiHlnrnj  for  a  Duch.  —  Ask- 
ing for  Bread,  and  yettuuj  Stones.  —  Pat  shines 
as  Cook. 


}T  receiving  such  startling  intelligence,  both 
Messrs.  b^innnons  and  Long  looked  horriiied 
and  bewildered,  and  neither  of  them  said 
one  word. 

"  At  any  rate,  the  mate's  on  board,"  said  Mr. 
Long  at  last. 

"  The  mate  !  That's  the  worst  of  it.  He  got 
his  breakfast  only  a  half  an  hour  go.  He  slept  in 
mv  barn." 

"  And  where  has  the  vessel  gone  ?  "  cried  Mr. 
Long,  in  great  distress. 

"  I  can't  tell.  I  rowed  out  for  a  mile,  but  didn't 
see  any  signs  of  her." 

''  We  must  go  ai'ter  them  at  onc(\"  said  Mr. 
Long.     "  Can't  we  get  a  sail-boat  somewhere  ?" 

''  I  suppose  I  can  rig  up  a  sail  in  my  boat  ;  l)ut 
she's  only  a  ])unt,  and  I  don't  think  we  could  man- 
age her  at  all  among  the  currents  out  there."' 

"  I  wonder  if  they  know  anything  about  sailing?" 


^  ' ,! 


!lil 


164 


THE   B.   0.    W.   C. 


It 


M 


I    ■■ 


1 

i 

1 

"  No  doubt  tliey  do,"  said  Captain  Pratt. 

"  0,  they're  all  right/'  said  Captain  Corbet,  con- 
fidently, ''  I  said,  when  they  went  adrift  before, 
that  they'd  turn  u})  right  side  up  —  and  up  they 
turned.  IJesides,  the  weather's  fine,  and  there's 
no  danger  in  life." 

'^  Still  we  must  do  something,"  said  Mr.  Long, 
anxiously.  *'  Even  if  they  do  understand  sailing, 
they  can  never  get  back  here  again." 

''  It's  jest  what  I've  been  expectin',"  said  Cap- 
tain Corbet,  after  a  profound  silence,  and  with  a 
tone  of  deep  conviction. 

''  What  ?  " 

"  AVhy,  that  there  anchor." 

"What  did  you  expect?" 

"  Why,  that  it  would  break  oif  short.  You  see 
there's  been  a  crack  in  it  I'or  nigh  two  years,  an' 
every  time  I  used  it,  I  said,  says  I,  it's  bound  to  go 
this  time."  . 

"  But  why  in  Heaven's  name  did  you  let  it  go  so 
long,  if  it  was  cracked  ?  " 

*'  Wal,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  never  gave  it  a  thought, 
'cept  when  I  had  occasion  to  anchor,  —  and  then, 
of  course,  I  couldn't  get  it  mended." 

'^  And  so  you've  been  trusting  your  own  life, 
and  the  lives  of  other  people,  to  that  old,  cracked 
anchor,"  cried  ^Ir.  Long,  indignantly. 

''  Wal,  it  held  on  well  down  thar  at  Five  Islands, 
and  off  on  the  mud-Hats.  You  know  that.  It  did 
jest  as  well  as  a  bran  new  one,  and  didn't  break 
fair  this  time,  nuther." 


THE    SCIIOOXEU    BREAKS    AWAY. 


105 


"  Didn't  break  fair  !     Wliat  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Why,  I  mean  the  schooner  lias  kind  o'  sot  on  it 
when  she  was  aground,  and  broke  it  tliat  way." 

Mr.  Long  turned  away. 

'^  Captain  Pratt,"  said  lie,  ''  I  won't  conceal  from 
you  that  I'lr.  very  anxious.  Those  boys  may  un- 
derstand sailing,  but  I'm  not  sure  that  they 
do.  I  must  do  something.  Can't  you  suggest 
anything  ?  " 

"  AYell,  I  was  just  going  to  take  my  glass,"  said 
Captain  Pratt,  ''  and  go  down  to  that  there  pint," 
pointing  to  a  headland  a  few  miles  off.  "  I'liat 
pint  commands  a  view  of  pooty  nigh  the  whole 
bay,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Ave'd  see  the 
schooner.  I  was  just  going  there  when  you  came. 
Besides,  we  can  get  a  boat  down  there,  —  a  good 
deal  better  than  mine." 

''  We'll  start  off  at  once,  then,"  said  INfr.  Long. 
^^  These  boys  can  wait  here  till  we  come  back.  1 
hope  we  won't  need  to  trouble  your  good  nature 
long.  Captain  Pratt." 

"  Trouble  !  Why,  sir,  it's  the  greatest  pleasure 
I  have  to  see  a  strange  face  here  occasionally." 

After  a  few  words  of  warning  and  good  advice 
to  the  boys  who  were  to  remain,  Mr.  Long,  together 
with  Mr.  Simmons,  went  with  Captain  l*ratt,  while 
Captain  Corbet,  with  Bogud  and  Billymack,  fol- 
lowed after  them.  Tiie  party  of  six  set  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  headland  mentioned  by  Captain 
Pratt,  while  the  five  boys  who  remained  sauntered 


1 

! 

; 

'      1 

.^1 

) 

i 


1 

!   ■ 
I 
1 

i.     ■ 

i' 

{       !-  . 
i 

(• 


7r 


IGG 


THE    I}.    0,    W.    C. 


:i 


1 


down  slowly  to  tlie  shore,  where  were  the  boxes 
and  baskets  wliicli  had  been  landed  there  on  the 
evening  of  the  arrival  at  the  cove. 

The  boys  felt  the  hours  hang  heavily  upon  their 
hands.  The  absence  of  their  companions  made 
them  all  feel  dull  ;  the  fare  at  Captain  Pratt's  had 
grown  distasteful,  for  pork  and  Indian  meal  and 
molasses  are  things  that  are  sometimes  not  won- 
derfully attractive  to  the  youthful  taste.  So  tliese 
things  ])alled  ;  and  when,  at  twelve  o'clock,  they 
were  summoned  to  dinner  by  amiable  Mrs.  Pratt,  she 
found  that  they  had  lost  their  appetites  —  a  thing 
which  she  attributed  to  their  grief  about  their  lost 
companions ;  and  so  she  set  to  work  to  condole 
with  them  and  comfort  them.  After  esca})ing  from 
this  kind-hearted  old  lady,  they  went  down  to  the 
point  again,  and  watched  the  water  as  it  flowed  in. 
Captain  Pratt  and  his  companions  had  not  come 
back,  and  they  wore  prepared  for  a  long  absence 
on  his  part.  The  thought  made  them  more  dis- 
consolate. 

"  What  can  wo  do  ?  "  said  Sanmiy. 

"  We'll  starve,"  said  Johnny  Blue. 

'^  We'll  have  to  do  something,"  said  Jiggins,  who 
was  a  very  grave,  earnest  boy,  and  always  spoke 
in  a  very  grave,  earnest  manner. 

''Well,  what?" 

"For  my  part,"  said  Jiggins,  "PII  go  fishing. 
Who'll  come  with  me  ?  " 

''  I  will,"  said  Muckle. 


THE    BOYS   DOLEFUL. 


1G7 


"  And  T,"  said  Joliimy  Blno. 

"I  don't  tliiiik  tiRM'o's  any  cliancc,"  said  Pat  ^ 
''  so  I'll  stay  lioro  and  lish  for  ails  in  tlio  nuid." 

Pat  could  never  ^et  rid  of  a  taste  of  the  broi^ue," 
which  elun^' to  liini,  and  })roelaiincd  his  nationality. 

Sammy  showed  no  inclination  to  move :  so  the 
three  went  fishing-,  leaving-  him  and  Pat  hehind. 

Pat  then  went  into  the  woods  and  cut  a  long 
fishing--])ole,  after  which  he  went  fishing  for  *'ails." 
He  had  no  success,  but  kept  at  it  bravely  for  more 
than  an  hour,  unwilling  to  give  up.  At  last  his 
])atience  was  worn  out,  and  ho  returned  to  the 
])oint.  On  his  arrival  there,  Sammy  was  not  to  be 
seen. 

Pat  seated  himself  disconsolately  on  the  shore, 
and  watched  the  tide,  whicli  was  now  running  out, 
lor  some  time.  Then  his  roving  eyes  were  at- 
tracted bv  the  baskets  and  trunks.  To  these  lie 
directed  his  steps,  in  the  hope  that  something 
might  be  found  there  with  which  he  could  satisfy 
the  cravings  of  his  aj)petite. 

lie  found  most  of  the  trunks  empty.  Some  of 
the  baskets  were  filled  with  jilates,  others  with 
cups  and  saucers,  others  with  knives,  forks,  and 
spoons.  All  these  excited  his  disgust  to  an  un- 
measured degree.  In  one  of  them  he  found  a  ham- 
l)one,  the  remainder  of  their  last  repast  on  the 
shore.  This  had  nothing  on  it  whatever — a  fact 
whicli  excited  such  indignation  in  Pat  that  he  flung 
it  into  the  water. 


>;iH 


n 


1    t    :  iil 


1G8 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


;-5; 


,i.    ( 


1:1    iS 


At  liist  ho  came  to  tlio  baskets  coiitaininp^  the 
minerals.  Openiiif;-  these,  lie  found  a  lar^e  nnmber 
of  parcels  inside.  Hoping  that  these  would  afford 
something  eatable,  he  opened  one  or  two  of  them, 
but  found,  to  his  unspeakable  disgust,  that  they 
contained  nothing  but  stones. 

Pat  was  a  very  original  character,  who  liad 
drifted,  by  some  extraordinary  chance,  into  the 
school.  With  a  very  strong  desire  to  get  an 
"  edication,"  he  had  come  there  and  begged  Dr. 
Porter  to  admit  him,  olfering  to  pay  his  way  by 
"Working.  Dr.  Porter  found  that  the  Irish  boy  had 
already  learned  a  good  deal,  and  that  he  had  an  ex- 
ceedingly strong  desire  to  be  taught  more.  lie 
could  read  and  write  well ;  and  so  earnest  were  his 
entreaties,  that  the  kind-hearted  doctor  consented 
to  admit  him.  His  industry  and  application  soon 
gained  the  good  will  of  the  teachers ;  while  his 
flow  of  good  spirits,  his  oddities  and  whims,  made 
him  popular  among  the  boys.  In  many  respects 
he  was  intensely  ignorant,  and  had  not  been  long 
enough  at  the  school  to  acquire  anything  like  the 
general  information  wliich  the  rest  of  the  boys 
possessed.  At  first  they  had  wondered  or  laughed 
at  his  blunders  ;  but  afterward  Pat  had  been  more 
cautious  about  expressing  his  opinions  on  anything, 
and  thus,  by  exhibiting  his  ignorance  less,  was 
supposed  to  have  surmounted  it.  Taking  him  all 
tcrether,  he  was  a  ve»'y  remarkable  boy,  and  prom- 
ised, in  time,  to  surpass  many  of  his  companions. 


I    ' 


11 


PAT    AND    THE    MINERALS. 


1G9 


At  present,  however,  he  was  fur  iiifc^rior  to  them 
all.  He  had  been  asked  to  go  on  the  trip  of  the 
Antelope  from  a  very  kindly  desire  to  give  him  all 
the  advantages  possible.  He  had  not  the  remotest 
idea  what  the  real  purpose  of  the  trip  was,  but 
suj)posed  it  to  be  a  kind  of  pleasure  party.  It  is 
true  he  saw  Messrs.  Simmons  and  Long  hammering 
rocks  ;  but  with  his  usvud  caution  about  connnitting 
himself  and  exposing  his  ignorance,  he  had  not 
asked  anything  al)out  it,  nor  had  he  looked  at  their 
work.  While  they  were  hanmiering  rocks,  he  was 
climbing  them,  or  running  about  the  beach.  IFo 
had  not  noticed  the  baskets,  but  supposed  them  to 
be  full  of  provisions  ;  nor  had  he  seen  Messrs. 
Sinnnons  and  Long  in  their  tender  care  of  their 
specimens  after  landing  on  this  place.  The  stones, 
then,  which  Tat  discovered,  wrapped  in  paper, 
were  utterly  unintelligible  to  him,  and  the  sight  of 
tiiem  only  seemed  to  cap  the  climax  of  the  indig- 
nation which  was  growing  in  his  breast. 

''  Well !  well !  well !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  looked 
at  each  stone  on  taking  it  from  the  pajjcr.  ^'AVhat's 
this  ?  A  stone  —  a  muddy  stone  !  I>y  the  powers, 
but  isn't  this  like  a  boy  askin'  for  bread,  and  gettin' 
a  stone." 

In  fact  it  was  no  better  than  a  dirty  stone  in 
Pat's  eyes.  Two  very  beautiful  specimens  of  moss 
agate  they  were ;  but  it  would  need  grinding  and 
polishing  to  bring  out  these  peculiar  beauties.  Aa 
yet  they  were  concealed. 


'1 


r.^-^1 


i 


;  I 


':i 


no 


THE   B.    O.    VV.    C. 


AiiotluM'  and  iuiotlicr  ps^per  was  opened.  Ono 
coiitaiiu'd  a  wliito  stone,  like  (juartz,  enelosiiig  some 
ametliysts  ;  another  a  ])ieco  of  sandstone,  with 
pceuh'ar  marks  on    it,  very  lii^-lily  ])rize(l  l>y  Mr. 


Sininions. 


These    Pat   threw  on  the   ground   with 


great  inchgnation.  Tlien  lie  took  the  rest  out  with- 
out  opening  them,  knowing  by  the  touch  and  the 
weight  of  them  what  they  were.  He  hadasti'ong 
]io])e  that  something  eatable  nn'glit  yet  be  in  the 
bottom  of  the  basket;  but  at  lust  all  was  empty, 
and  there  was  nothing  to  eat. 

Ilis  indignation  could  no  longer  be  repressed. 
He  had  a  vague  idea  that  some  one  had  done  this 
so  as  to  play  a  trick  on  him,  and  this  thought  only 
heightened  his  passion.  So,  without  thinking  of 
anything  but  his  own  wrongs,  he  seized  the  un- 
olVending  stones  by  handfuls,  and  angrily  threw 
them  over  the  bank  into  the  water.  Then  he  sat 
down  gloomily,  and  tried  to  conjecture  which  of 
the  boys  it  had  been  who  had  wrapped  all  those 
stones  in  paper  for  the  sake  of  tricking  him.  At 
first  his  impulse  was  to  go  around  among  them 
fiercely  and  inquire  ;  but  at  length,  from  fear  of 
being  laughed  at,  he  decided  to  say  nothing  about 
it,  but  wait  and  see  what  would  turn  up. 

lie  was  roused  from  his  reverie  by  a  touch  on 
the  shoulder. 

He  started  hastily,  and  saw  Johmiy  Blue,  look- 
ing very  mysterious,  with  something  under  hi« 
jacket. 


V    YV^ 


JOHNNY  AND  THE  nCCK. 


171 


"TTallo!  Wlioro  siro  the  others?"  said  Pat. 
"  Couldn't  you  catch  anything?" 

''  The  others  are  up  the  hrook,  fisliing.  I  cauf!;lit 
soniet/tim/,^^  said  Johnny,  with  a  more  mysterious 
look  than  ever. 

'^  What  is  it  ?  What  have  you  got  under  your 
arm  ?  " 

''See,"  said  Johnny,  triumphantly;  and  lifting 
his  jacket,  he  displayed,  to  Pat's  astonished  gaze, 
the  form  of  a  duck. 

''  A  duck  !  "  cried  Pat,  with  a  shout.  "  Where 
did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  H-s-s-s-s-h  ! "  said  Johnny,  warningly.  "  I 
caught  it." 

"  Caught  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  a  fish-hook.  I  trailed  the  hook, 
baited  with  a  bit  of  bread,  and  the  duck  bit  —  and 
here  he  is." 

''  We'll  cook  him  !  "  cried  Pat. 

''  That's  it ;  but  we'd  better  get  away  where 
they  won't  see  us." 

"  Sure  nobody  '11  see  us  here,  at  all,  at  all." 

"  Won't  they  ?  " 

"  Surely  no.  There's  lots  of  wood  here,  an'  I'll 
start  the  lire  in  a  jiffy.  Come  along.  ITurroo, 
boys  !  " 

So  Pat  and  .Johnny  set  the  fire  going,  and  then 
they  picked  the  duck,  —  which  was  previously 
killed,  of  course,  —  and  they  had  him  all  ready  to 
lay  on  the  coals,  when  suddenly  their  attention  was 


IfJ 


I 


f:i 


If    ! 

1' 


'i 

M 

1   if 

ill 

1 

'1 

•/ 

*ri 

1 1 

f  i 

r 

1 

■'( 

172 


TITE  B.    0.   W.    C. 


arrested  by  a  low,  TnnfTlod,  piteous  squeak  close  by 
tliem  behind  the  wood-pile. 

"  H-H-s-s-s-h  !  "  said  Johnnie. 

"  Botheration  !  "  said  Pat,  hiding  the  duck  under 
a  log  of  wood. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Johnnie. 

"  Sure  it's  a  pig —  tliat's  what  it  is,"  said  Pat. 

A  rustle  was  heard  now  in  the  bushes,  and  then 
Sammy  walked  out  from  behind  the  wood-pile. 
His  face  had  a  briglit  expression  of  satisfaction, 
and  he,  too,  had  something  under  his  arm. 

''  It's  another  duck  !  "  said  Pat,  with  a  wild  laugh. 
"  Sammy's  been  out  fishin',  too,"  and  he  went  off 
into  a  peal  of  laughter. 

"  Stop  your  noise,"  said  Sammy.  "  I  thought 
you  were  somebody  else,  and  that's  why  I  had  to 
come  through  the  trees,  and  behind  the  wood-pile." 

''  Is  it  a  duck  ye've  got,  thin  ? "  asked  Pat. 
"  Sure,  haven't  we  one  oursih^es  ?  " 

Sammy  said  nothing,  but  drawing  his  jacket 
aside,  showed  the  little  white  head  and  twinkling 
eyes  of  a  pig  of  very  small  size  —  a  roaster,  in 
fact,  in  excellent  condition. 

'^  It's  a  pig  ye've  got.  Didn't  I  know  the  squale 
of  it?  Didn't  I  say  it  was?  It's  me  that  knows 
the  voice  of  a  pig.  Ilurroo,  boys  !  we're  goin'  to 
have  a  banquet,  so  we  are.  Where  did  ye  get  it, 
thin,  Sammy,  jewel  ?  " 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  said  Sammy,  looking  cau- 
tiously all  around.     "  They'll  hear  you." 


H  ! 


SAMMY   AND   THE   PIG. 


173 


"  Tt'rt  mmn  T'll  bo,  tliiti.  But  where  did  yo  ffet 
it,  diirliii'?"  ssiid  I'at,  in  u  soft,  cuaxiiig  whisper. 

''  Up  there." 

"Wliere?     Pnitt's?" 

"  No." 

"  Wliere  thin?" 

''  0,  never  niin(h  It  wasn't  near  any  house.  Tt 
was  in  a  field.  There  were  a  dozen  of  tlieni  ;  and 
I  was  so  liuii^ry  1  couhhi't  lielp  it." 

"  Faith,  thin  we  may  as  well  have  the  yoniij^ 
roaster  as  the  old  pork,"  said  Pat.  ''  Ye're  well 
here.     We're  in  luck  this  day.     ^ee  here." 

And  he  pulled  out  the  duck  and  slujwed  it  to 
Sanuny. 

"  How  nicely  youVe  picked  it  and  fixed  it!"  said 
he.  '^  1  wish  we  could  manage  the  j)ig.  1  don't 
know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  Many's  the  pig  I've  kilt,"  said  Pat,  loftily. 

"  Have  you  then  ?     And  will  you  do  this  one  ?  " 

"  Will  I'do  it  ?    Faith,  it's  me  that  will,"  said  Pat. 

"  But  won't  he  squeal  ?  " 

"  Squale  is  it  ?     Not  a  squale  you'll  hear." 

On  this  Sammy  handed  the  pig  to  Pat,  ^'  'lo  dis- 
appeared with  it  among  the  bushes.  No  sound 
was  heard  ;  but  after  a  short  absence  Pat  returned 
in  triumph,  having  accomplished  his  object. 

"  And  now  we'll  have  two  roasts,  instead  of  one." 

Driving  two  forked  sticks  into  the  ground,  he 
made  another  with  a  sharp  ])()int,  and  ran  it  through 
the  duck  and  the  pig ;  then  he  laid  the  stick  with 


1 

1    ■                 l! 

1 

1 

■ 

■ 

"       ' 

ii ' 


t> 


174 


THE  B.    0.    W.    C. 


its  burden  upon  the  two  forked  sticks,  and  knelt 
down  by  the  lire. 

''  The  coals  are  jnst  right,"  said  l^it.  "  I'll  sit 
here  an'  give  it  a  tnrrun  till  I'm  tired,  an'  thin 
ye'll  relave  me.''  So  lie  ke])t  on  tni-iiing  tlie  spit, 
and  soon  a  i"ich  aromatic  i'ragrance  tilled  the  air. 

"  Isn't  there  any  salt?"  asked  i'at,  alter  a  time. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Johnny  ;  '^  and  there's  pepper 
too.     I'll  get  the  castors." 

''  Do,  thin,  and  ([uick  too,"  said  Pat. 

The  castors  were  soon  forthcoming,  and  Pat 
sprinkled  a  little  salt  and  pepj)er  over  the  roaster 
and  the  duck. 

"  That's  die  Avay,"  said  he,  "  to  bring  out  the 
full  fleevour." 

At  length  they  were  done,  and  takiMi  ofi'the  fire. 
The  plates,  knives  and  forks,  upon  which  Pat  had 
looked  so  contemptuously  shortly  before,  Avere  now 
brought  forth.  A  pleasant  place  was  found  in  a 
secluded  spot,  and  here  they  sat  down  to  dine. 

They  hiid  scarcely  begun  when  footsteps  were 
heard.      Pat  went  out  to  reconnoitre. 

It  was  Jiggins  and  Miickle. 

"  Have  ye  caught  any  fish  ?  "  was  his  first  ad- 
dress to  them. 

''  No,"  said  they  in  a  discontented  tone ;  "  and 
we're  starving." 

"Is  it  starvin'  ye  are?  Thin  will  ye  just  step 
in  here,  for  we've  got  the  most  illegant  diimc.T  ye 
ever  sot  eyes  ou."     And  saying  this  he  led  them 


'W'jf'  -^1 


THE    BOYS    EAT. 


175 


to  tlio  little   secluded  nook,  whore  the  tiible  was 
spread  on  the  ^rass. 

At  six  o'clock  they  went  up  to  tea,  and  ^Frs. 
Pratt  sympathized  deeply  wHh  the  poor  boys,  who 
had  lost  their  appetites  from  anxiety. 


i: 


I 


h  I 


r 


I 


176 


THE   B.    0.    W.   C. 


XITT. 


Adrift.  —  Shilfnl    N^dvlydfor.s.  —  J] rrah'rs    ahead, 
—  yl  iKirroiv  Scratch.  —  Htuck  in  the.  Mud. 


w\ 


, 


^ 


t.I 


I 


•tf*    I'jT  lis  now  return  to  tlic  iinrortiinjito  "  B.  O. 
\V.  ('."  wlio   liiul  iriut  so  uiiuxpoctodly  with 


i^ 


aiiotIi(!r  a( 


Ivorit 


uro 


On  ^•oiiiL;'  on  Itoai'd  of  tlio  scliooiKir,  llicy  found 
\\\v.  wutcr  low;  and  IIk^  tide  luid  just  hcj^iin  to  float 
]i(!r  in  risin;^.  As  tlic^y  had  sk']»t  ])ut  littlo  tlio 
])r(M;(Mlin^  i^'i^'ld,  tlujy  rctinid  almost  ininKulialcly, 
and  ^<oon  were;  l)uri(!d  in  a  profound  sluinlxsr.  Tho 
next  inorninj^  Phil  was  awake;  first.  IIo  W(3nt  up 
on  (h^'k,  and  tlio  iioxt  instant  fi;av(5  a  loud  cry. 

Hallo,   hoys!"    h.3   cricMJ.      "  (iot  up!      Wu'ro 


a 


ai 


Irift.     Hurry  up  —  (piick  ! 


M 


Awakinij;'   instantly   at  this  startling  n(!\vs,  tlioy 
tuirihled    up   on    deck   without  a  inoUK^nt's  delay; 


an( 


I    tl 


icrc,    true    en(»ui;li,   they 


foui 


id    themselves 


far  out  in  the  hay,  ach'ift,  apparently,  as  l*hil  had 


sau 


1. 


his  is  (pieer,"  said    Iiriici 


a 


JI 


uru  H  licr  aii- 


clior  down,  as  usua 


n 


'I'lie  others  walked   to   tiic   bows  whuro    l3ruco 


■I  \ 


I! 


h\ 


ADRIFT. 


177 


h; 


•o 


'y 


ul 


II- 


;o 


was,  and    saw   Hk;   oliaiti   liaiigiiig    down,  just   as 
tliou^-h  slio  W('r(3  anchorccl. 

"  \V(3  aro  anchoroci,  sur(3  (mi<)U<:Ii,"  said  Artiiur. 

"No,  wo'ro  not;  vvu'ro  drilling,"  said  Jiurt. 
"  Look  at  tho  land." 

A  look  at  tlio  land  satisli(!d  all  that  tho  vessel 
was  actually  moving  through  the  water. 

"  Let's  try  the  anchor.  It  must  be  dragging," 
said  Hart. 

So  they  all  went  to  work  at  the  windlass,  and  in 
course  of  time  lound  the  anchor  raised.  As  thc^y 
worked,  tlu^y  lound  it  lighter  than  th(3y  expected; 
and  when  at  length  they  had  ended,  they  ran  to 
the  hows.  All  was  explained.  The  anchor  was 
bnjken  olF  short  at  the  lluke. 

"That's  how  it  happened,"  said  IJart.  "And  so 
we're  in  lor  anotluir  advciuture." 

"What  shall  we  (h)  now?" 

"  Sail  the  vessel,  ol'  couise,"  said  Hruce. 

"Where  to?" 

"  Back  to  I'ratt's  (J(3ve." 

"And  where  is  that?" 

No  one  c^ould  answer  that.  Each  one  looked 
around  candidly,  in  order  to  see  it  ho  could  lind 
any  place  which  lo(»ked  'ike  Pratt's  (/ovo.  But 
there  were  two  diflicultic^s  in  the  way  of  any  such 
discovery.  In  \hv,  first  place,  they  had  apy)roached 
Pratt's  Cove  in  the  dark,  and  did  not  know  how  it 
lookcid  ;  and  in  the  second  place;,  they  could  not 
see  any  si)ot  that  looked  like  a  covo  ut  all. 
12 


178 


THE   B.    O.   W.    C. 


H! 


*Hl'     I 


li 

1 

:     1- 

i 

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' 

I!| 


All  armnid  tlieni  was  tlio  bay.  Before  them  was 
the  Parrshoro'  shore.  ]5ehin(l  thein  was  Bloinidon. 
On  one  side,  and  a  little  in  front,  were  the  Five 
Islands,  ahoiit  six  miles  distant :  l)eyond  which  the 
waters  of  the  bay  extended,  till  they  faded  away 
into  a  low,  indistinct  line  of  coast.  They  could 
understand,  in  a  general  way,  that  Pratt's  Cove  lay 
somewhere  in  iVont  of  them,  but  they  could  not 
guess  within  twenty  miles  of  the  place. 

'^  Let's  up  sail,"  said  Tom,  '^  and  run  up  there. 
It  looks  like  a  cove  ;  "  and  he  })ointed  to  a  hollow 
m  the  line  of  hills. 

"  0,  the  hills  around  Pratt's  Cove  are  higher  than 
that,"  said  l^ruce. 

"  i^uppose  we  sail  over  and  ask  O'Pafferty." 

"  Very  well.  I  agree  to  that,"  said  Bart. 
"  Bruce,  you  can  steer." 

'^  No.     You  may  as  well  steer,"  said  Bruce. 

"  1  don't  particularly  care  about  it,"  said  Bart. 
"Don't  any  ol'  you  I'cllows  want  to?" 

"  (),  no.  We  don't  care.  You  steer,  Bart.  We'll 
hoist  the  sails." 

So  Bart  turned  away  with  rather  a  blank  expres- 
sion on  his  face,  and  walked  slowly  to  the  rudder. 
The  wind  was  moderate,  and  the  water  only  a  little 
rullled.  '^riie  other  boys,  with  innnense  confusion 
and  shouting,  toiled  away  at  the  sails  one  after  the 
other,  and  at  last  managed  to  get  them  set. 

"  IVi'haps  we'd  better  not  have  the  foresail  up/' 
suggested  Bart. 


i 


I' 


BART   TAKES    THE    TILLER. 


179 


"O,  yes.  Why  not?"  said  llruco.  "  Cuiiio, 
boys —  up  slio   rises  !  " 

And  slioiiting  out  a  sailoi"'s  son^'  wliicli  lie  liad 
once  lieard,  he  coni})lete(l  his  work. 

The  vessel  moved  j2,'eiitly  tliiou.^h  th(^  water,  and 
Bart  pointed  her  head  towai'ds  the  island  which  he 
considered  to  he  O'KaHei'ty's.  M'hc  wind  was  liui';, 
and  the  vessel  came  around  very  easily^  and  then 
headed  away  for  the  island. 

Now,  it  Iia])i)entMl  that,  as  Bart  helonge*!  to  a 
seaport  town,  and  as  his  father  was  a  merchant, 
and  as  ]5art  himself  had  once  experienced  a  sea 
fever,  and  had  been  almost  on  the  jxiint  of  runnin<j;' 
away  to  sea,  —  he  had,  very  naturally,  been  always 
regarded  among  his  companions  as  a  great  au- 
tht)rit}  on  all  matters  connected  with  seamanshij). 
And  so,  to  a  certain  extent,  he  was.  lie  knew  all 
about  the  rigging  of  a  shij),  and  understood,  in  a 
general  way,  the  principles  on  which  she  sailed. 
He  was  also  a  good  oarsman;  but  in  point  of  iiict, 
he  had  never  handled  a  sail-boat  in  his  life.  This 
was  owing  to  his  father's  prudence,  Avho  allowed 
him  to  go  out  rowing  whenever  he  pleased,  l)ut 
never  permitted  him  to  have  a  sail-boat.  And  so 
it  hap])ened  that  Bait  knew  no  more  about  sailing 
than  any  one  on  board. 

However,  there  was  no  Indp  for  it;  and  he  had 
to  take  the  tiller  and  assume  the  responsibility  of 
the  situation.  After  a  time  he  began  to  gain  con- 
fiduiice.      The   wind  was   moderate,  the   schooner 


^1 


^ 

;    1 

■      1 

:    1 

i 

1 

180 


THE  B.   0.   W.   C. 


i'y 


m 


t 

,')( 

,4 

'4 

■ill. 

■'ll: 

ii 

i 

1;  ! 

ii 


ilfi! 


was  going  in  a  straiglit  course,  and  O'RaiTerty's 
Island  was  full  bofore  liiin. 

They  went  on  for  a  long  time,  when  at  length 
Bruce  exclaimed, — 

"  Well,  T  don't  see  how  it  is.  We've  been  going 
to  O'Rafferty's  for  full  half  an  hour,  and  we  are  no 
nearer.  And  here  we  are,  with  Pinnacle  Island 
coming  between  us." 

''  It's  the  currents,"  said  Bart,  coolly.  "  Nobody 
can  sail  in  this  bay,  unless  he  understands  all  about 
them.     I'm  sure  1  don't." 

"  Hadn't  we  better  bring  her  about,  and  stand 
off  on  the  other  tack?  We  could  tlien  steer  so  as 
to  make  allowance  for  the  current,  which  seems  to 
be  setting  off  there." 

"  Here,  Bruce,  you  stec,"  said  Bart.  "  I'm 
tired." 

"  0,  well,  let's  bring  her  around  first.  Port  your 
helm,  Bart." 

Bart  tried  to  obey ;  but  as  he  turned  the  helm 
in  exactly  the  opposite  way,  some  confusion  was 
the  result. 

"  Port !     I  said  port !  "  cried  Bruce. 

"  0  ! "  said  Bart ;  and  seeing  that  he  had  made 
a  mistake,  he  proceeded  to  rectify  it  by  turning  it 
starboard.  The  vessel  had  turned  partly ;  but  as 
Bruce  had  expected  it  to  turn  in  the  opposite 
direction,  he  had  checked  Bart's  mistake.  But 
Bruce  himself  ki  ew  as  little  about  sailing  as  Bart, 
and  so  he  had  swung  the  sails  the  wrong  way. 


^ 


MUTUAL    IGNORANCE. 


181 


The  vessel  caiifj;ht  the  wfnd  as  she  came  round ; 
and  Bart,  avIio  luid  tried  to  obey  Bruce's  correction, 
finding  tliat  the  vessel  was  all  riglit,  and  was  doing- 
very  well,  checked  himself,  and  let  her  go.  Bart 
now  saw  that  Brnce  liad  made  a  mistake,  and  l^ruce 
suspected  that  Bart  had.  But  they  said  nothing, 
and  the  other  boys  thought  that  both  Bruce  and 
Bart  were  first-rate  navigators. 

The  schooner  now  held  on  straight  ahead  on 
what  Bart  supposed  to  be  the  other  tack.  Bruce 
and  the  others  were  very  well  satisfied  with  the 
proceedings. 

"  I  think  we'd  better  come  round  again,  Bart," 
said  Bruce. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Bart,  who  had  been  looking 
forward  to  this. 

"  Port  your  helm,  then,"  said  Bruce. 

Bart  turned  the  helm  a-starboard,  as  he  had  done 
before,  while  Bruce  and  Arthur  swung  the  booms 
to  assist  the  vessel.  She  came  round  that  time  all 
right. 

''  Why,  Bart !  why  didn't  you  port  the  helm?" 

"  Because  I  had  to  put  the  helm  starboard  to 
bring  her  round.     It's  all  right." 

Bruce  looked  grave.  He  felt  that  he  had  com- 
mitted a  blunder.  After  all,  which  was  port  and 
which  was  starl)oard  he  hardly  knew.  He  con- 
cluded after  this  to  intrust  the  care  of  the  vessel 
to  one  who  knew,  like  Bart,  and  felt  (piite  grateful 
to  Bart  for  his  delicacy  in  not  exposing  his  igno- 
rance. 


) 

'1 

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1 

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T  i 


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182 


THH    H.    0.    W.    C. 


Awjiy  wont  the  scliooiior  —  faster  tin's  time,  for 
the  wind  Iiad  sprunf^*  up  tVeslier.  This  was  what 
Hart  (lrea(h3(L  Hut  tiuii-c  was  no  liel|)  lor  it ;  so  lie 
k('|)t  on,  witii  a  vtim'uc  ex]»ectation  ol'  some  (h'saster. 
He  now  hea(h'(l,  as  lielore,  i'oi"  O'Hallcrty's  Island, 
and  Wiitched  very  anxiously  to  see  how  they  were 
pro^'ressin^. 

^'  You'd  h(;tter  head  her  a  little  to  the  north'ard, 
Bart,"  said  Arthur  —  ^Miadn't  you?  so  as  to  allow 
for  that  cuii-cnt." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Hart ;  and  he  put  the  vessel 
a  little  closci-  in  the  dii'cclion  indieated. 

Hut  in  doing  so,  the  vessel  began  to  stagger,  and 
the  sails  hcgan  to  flap  and  rattle,  and  Hart  was 
filled  with  consternation.  Hastily  he  restored  the 
helm  to  its  foiiuer  [)osition,  but  without  any  result. 
Then  he  tried  his  old  maiuruvro,  by  means  of 
which  ho  had  already  turno(l  hi'r  twice.  It  was 
of  no  use.  The  sails  tla|)ped,  and  the  vessel 
danced,  and  Hart  was  about  confessing  his  com- 
plete ignornnce  of  everything,  when  suddenly  her 
sails  tilled  again,  and  to  Hart's  amazement  and  de- 
light she  sailed  off  away  from  the  island  and  back 
on  the  other  tack. 

Bart's  heart  was  full  of  thankfulness,  but  he  said 
not  a  word.  He  looked  alu^ad  as  coolly  as  possible, 
and  held  the  tiller  as  before^ 

"Well,  IJart,  what  are  you  uj)  to  now?  Why 
don't  y(m  head  for  O'Rallerty's?  " 

"(^in't,"  said  Bart,  laconically. 

"Why  not?" 


-rn-TT^   '  1 1?'^ 


!'y 


« 


DTFFTfULT   SATTJNO. 


183 


"Why,  there  uvv  tides  and  currcMits  jdioiit  th()S(3 
islands  eiioiii^li  to  sweep  away  ;i  h'iie-ol-l)attie  sliip. 
I  don't  undei'staiid  tlieni.  hichi't  you  see  what  a 
scrape  1  got  into  just  now?  I  won't  try  O'lxallei'- 
ty'n  again  in  a  hurry;  hut  il' any  of  you  I'ellows 
choose  to  try  it,  I  don't  care." 

"  (),  no,"  said  liruee,  "  we  can't  do  it  i:"  you  can't, 
Bart.      But    vliere  are  you  going  now?  " 

'•'  Well,  I  don't  know.  We  nnist  make  uj)  onr 
minds.  I'm  k(^eping  my  eye  on  the  coast;  and  if 
1  can  find  any  j)lace  that  looks  lik(!  Pratt's  Cove, 
I'll  run  in.  'I'lie  fact  is,  \\c  must  do  something,  or 
they'll  he  frightcMied  out  of  thcu'r  wits  alxuit  us.'' 

"  Pratt's  Cove  ?  J»ut  how  can  we  ever  lind  the 
place  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,  when  we  get  in  a  little  closer  to  the 
land,  we  may  see  it." 

"  Prn  confident,"  said  Bart,  "  that  it's  somewhere 
along  this  coast;  foi"  it  seems  to  me,  as  near  as  I 
can  remember,  that  this  is  the  coast  we  sailed  to. 
liook  at  the  Five  Islands,  'riiere's  O'Hail'erty's  ; 
and  there  ari'  tiiei  others.  You  see  we  came  out 
I'rom  this  side  of  O'Uall'erty's,  and  then  sailed  u[) 
somewdiere  along  there.  I  think,  when  we  get 
nearer,  wcril  see  an  o[)ening;  and  perhaps  we'll 
hit  the  cove   itseli." 

The  others  seemed  im|)ressed  by  liart's  w^ords ; 
and  as  none  of  them  had  anything  better  to  sug- 
gest, they  said  nothing. 

And  now  the  wind  blew  still  more  freshly,  and 


r 


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ill; 

1 

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I* 


184 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


Bnrt  looked  aronnd  witli  disniny.  On  wont  the 
schooner;  but  tlio  lonjj;'  lino  of  const  sliowed  no 
()penin<;-  wliuti^vor,  and  lio  liud  no  idea  wliat  to  do 
to  extricate  himself  from  the  position  in  wliich  he 
was.  What  made  it  worse  was  the  confidence 
which  all  now  felt  in  him.  Tie  felt  that  the  end 
would  come  —  the  moment  when  he  would  stand 
revealed  in  his  true  colors,  and  lose  his  prestige 
forever. 

More  fresldy  still  blew  the  wind,  and  the  sea 
around  rose  hip;her,  tossing-  up  now  into  white- 
capped  waves,  which  every  little  while  dashed  over 
the  bows  and  scattered  their  spray  about  the  decks. 
Yielding  to  the  wind,  the  vessel  lay  over ;  and  on 
she  scudded,  dashing  through  the  water  in  a  style 
Avhich  excited  all  on  board,  and  intoxicated  them 
with  delight. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Bruce.  "  Boys,  isn't  this  glo- 
rious?" 

"  Glorious  !  "  cried  the  boys  ;  and  some  of  them 
swung  by  their  hands  from  the  rigging,  and  others 
danced  about  the  deck,  shouting  as  each  wave  came 
splashing  over  the  bows,  and  roaring  with  laughter 
when  any  one  got  a  ducking. 

Hurrah!  and  Hurrah  again!  —  and  yet  again! 
Their  wild  mirth  only  added  new  anguish  to  the 
dismay  of  poor  Bart,  who  found  himself  now  face 
to  face  with  an  inextricable  problem. 

In  their  last  stretch  across  from  the  Five  Islands, 
they  had  drawn  near  to  the  main  land,  and  were 


( 


A   DILKMMA. 


185 


now  moving  near(^r  uikI  uoiirer  every  moment. 
What  was  to  bo  done  ?  It  was  already  time  to 
turn;  but  where  couhl  he  tui'n,  or  wh(U'e  would  he 
go  when  he  did  turn?  or,  tor  that  matter,  how  eould 
he  venture  to  turn  at  all?  His  last  experience  in 
turning  the  schooner  had  filled  him  with  (k'S|)air. 
What  was  the  meaning  of  those  kickings,  and  Ihip- 
pinga,  and  jumpings?  What  w^as  the  reason  that 
she  didn't  mind  her  rudder  at  all?  And  now  the 
wind  was  stronger,  and  the  sea  was  rougher. 
Could  he  venture  to  turn  the  vessel  with  such  a 
wind  and  such  a  sea?  He  felt  that  he  could  not. 
Anything  would  be  better.  So  he  thought  while 
taking  counsel  with  his  own  soul. 

And  while  taking  counsel  with  his  own  soul,  he 
saw  before  him  the  coast  extending  invitingly. 
There  was  a  long  line  of  sand,  or  of  mud,  —  which 
was  just  as  good,  —  into  which  he  longed  to  run 
the  vessel.  Which  would  be  best  —  to  run  the 
vessel  ashore,  or  to  make  the  desperate  attempt  to 
turn  her  again,  and  set  her  kicking  and  plunging? 
He  preferred  the  former.  Yes,  to  run  her  ashore 
would  solve  the  whole  difficulty.  He  might  be 
f'isgraced  by  it,  but  he  could  not  help  it.  He  felt 
that  he  was  doomed  to  disgrace,  in  any  event ;  and 
it  would  be  better  to  incur  disgrace  on  a  nmd  bank, 
and  in  safety,  than  when  tossing  and  drifting  he 
didn't  knt)w  where.  His  mind,  then,  was  made  up; 
and  he  kept  the  schooner's  head  straight  towards 
the  shore. 


I  .■ 


\  n 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.0 


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186 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


But  as  lie  approHclicd  it,  lie  was  aware  of  one 
very  startling  fact,  and  tliat  was,  that  the  schooner, 
while  going-  forward,  was  also  drifting  rapidly  to 
leeward.  In  the  course  of  that  sidelong  motion,  she 
was  losing  way  so  rapidly,  that,  instead  of  striking 
the  mud  flats,  she  might  run  u})(m  a  very  different 
kind  of  ])h»ce  ;  for  there,  on  the  lee  bow,  was  a 
headland  of  dark,  stern  lock,  at  the  base  of  which 
the  waves  were  breaking  into  foam.  In  his  fixed 
attention  to  the  mud  Hats,  he  had  not  noticed  this 
till  just  iiou',  when  it  was  full  l)efore  him,  and  not 
verv  I'ar  awav.  Below  this  headland  the  mud  flats 
appeared  again. 

What  could  he  do  ? 

All  seemed  lost ;  for  the  headland,  and  the  foam- 
ing waves,  and  the  frowning,  jagged  rocks  were  full 
before  him.  With  a  bitter  feeling  of  despair,  and 
a  pang  of  anguish  for  the  coming  fate  of  the  friends 
who  had  given  him  their  trust,  and  who  even  now 
were  singing  and  shouting  in  their  uproarious  glee, 
he  stood  for  a  moment  paralyzed,  looking  with 
white  lips  at  his  fate. 

Suddenly,  and  just  as  all  seemed  lost,  he  jerked 
the  helm  a-port.  The  schooner  swung  half  round. 
The  wind  took  her  astern,  and  drove  her  forward. 
Her  sails  Haj)ped  and  banged  about.  Then  a  cur- 
rent seemed  to  seize  her  and  carry  her  on  for  a 
score  of  yards.  Suddenly  there  was  a  thump,  a 
grinding  noise,  and  another  tliunip  dull  and  heavy. 

In  an  instant  all  was  confusion. 


agp.ou!;d. 


187 


''Tlie  rocks!  the  rocks!"  cried  all.  "She's 
struck ! " 

Then  the  schooner  was  once  more  swept  on,  and 
a  wave,  striking  her  stern,  dashed  the  tiller  out  of 
Bart's  hands,  and  he  fell.  Springing  up,  he  seized 
it  again,  not  knowing  how  he  moved  it,  or  when. 
At  that  moment  the  sails  filled  again,  the  schooner 
bounded  forward,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  was 
beyond  the  headland,  and  moving  on  toward  the 
lower  nmd  flat;  and  before  tliev  knew  that  they 
were  saved,  she  drove  hard  and  fast  into  the  nmd, 
with  a  shock  that  knocked  them  all  down. 

Picking  themselves  up,  they  looked  around  at 
the  shore  in  bewilderment.  Then  they  looked  at 
Bart. 

"What's  all  this?"  they  asked. 

"  0,  nothing,"  said  Bart.  "  I  found  we  couldn't 
do  anytiiing,  and  so  I  ran  her  ashore." 

"  By  Jove  !  "  cried  Bruce,  "  that  was  a  pretty 
narrow  scratch  we  had  of  it  on  those  rocks.  After 
this,  Bart,  I'll  always  brag  on  you.  You've  saved 
our  lives,  Bart.  I  thought  we  were  gone  for  it. 
1  never  saw  any  tiling  done  so  splendidly." 

For  a  moment  Bart  was  silent.  Here  was  a 
chance  for  fame.  ITe  nuiiht  avail  himself  of  the 
luckv  accident,  and  turn  it  to  his  own  glorv.  But 
the  thought  was  only  a  passing  one.  It  was  at 
once  dismissed. 

"  No,  boys,"  said  he ;  "  the  only  thing  1  did  was 
nearly  to  destroy  your  lives.    In  fact,  1  don't  know 


P! 


m 


I! 


i  m 


■I     ^il 


11  ■  ■' 

ii:! 


I'ili; 


188 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


N:! 


!    i 


any  more  about  sailing  a  vessel  than  any  of  you. 
It's  been  a  very  narrow  escape.  I  was  a  fool  to 
try  it ;  and  I  can  only  make  amends  by  confessing 
it.  I  don't  believe  in  being  a  humbug,  and  I  won't 
be  one  any  longer." 

At  first  the  boys  wouldn't  believe  him,  but  after 
a  while  he  explained  all  about  it.  After  this  con- 
fession, Bart  was  as  much  esteemed  by  his  friends 
as  ever. 


;  •  ! 


THE  SITUATION. 


189 


XIV. 


In  3fiid  and  Water.  —  A  Sea  Monster.  —  A  terrijic 
Fight.—  Wonderful  Pluck  of  the  ^'B.  0.  W.  CV 
—  SwaUoiving  a  Sculpln.  —  llie  Trophy. —  Wait- 
ing for  Deliverance. 

••Winding  tliemsc4ves  tlms  fixed  ill  the  mud, 
jB  tlioy  looked  around  to  see  the  place  at  which 
fff  they  hud  thus  unexpectedly  arrived.  In 
front  of  them  was  a  bank  about  sixty  feet  high, 
which  extended  for  some  miles  away,  commencing 
with  the  rockv  headland,  and  covered  with  trees 
on  the  top;  whilii  beyond  this,  the  country  rose 
into  hills.  As  far  as  they  could  see,  there  was  no 
opening  in  the  shore  to  indicate  the  presence  of  a 
cove  or  a  harbor.  From  the  appearance  of  the 
water,  it  seemed  as  though  the  mud  flat  extended 
for  miles  along  the  shore.  The  water  was  com- 
paratively smooth,  and  the  headland  kept  off  the 
wind,  so  that  after  they  had  lowered  the  sails,  the 
schooner  remained  quite  still. 

It  was  now  about  noon,  and  they  knew  that  the 
tide  was  rising.  A  wide  space  of  the  mud  flat  lay 
still  uncovered  by  the  water.     Their  position  was 


'    i 


I         i 


wWT 


I  Hi 


n 


190 


THE   B.    0.    W.   C. 


a  safo  one  as  yet,  tlioii^li  not  at  all  pleasant  on 
many  accounts. 

"  The  tide's  rising-,"  said  Phil ;  "  isn't  it,  Bart?  " 

"  Yes." 

"When  will  it  be  high  tide?" 

"  Ahoiit  three." 

"  I  wonder  if  tliey'll  come  after  us." 

"  Of  course  they  will." 

"  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  chance  of  our 
getting  ashore." 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  make  much  difference,  for  we 
couldn't  do  anything  if  we  did  get  there." 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  Arthur,  "  the  schooner's  be- 
ginning to  float  again." 

All  stood  waiting  in  silence,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments tliey  felt  a  slight  motion. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bruce,  "  the  tide  has  risen  since  we 
struck,  and  is  flojiting  us  in.  At  high  tide  we  shall 
be  close  up  under  the  bank." 

"  And  then  wliat  shall  we  do?  We  must  either 
choose  +o  fasten  the  vessel  ashore  if  we  can,  or 
float  out  again  and  sail  for  it,  or  drift." 

"  I  dt)n't  think  we'll  care  about  saib'ng  again, 
particularly  as  the  tide  will  be  going  out,  and  the 
night  coming  on." 

"  My  idea  is,"  said  Bruce,  "  to  fasten  her  to  the 
shore  if  we  can,  and  then  go  along  the  beach  or 
the  bank  till  we  find  some  people  and  get  help." 

"  That's  about  all  we  can  do,"  said  Bart.  "  We 
can't  think  of  going  adrift,  and  none  of  us  can 


J      ! 


'  i 


^Yl 


COXSULTATIOXS. 


191 


sail  the  vessel;  so.it"  tliey  don't  come  after ^r  we 
had  better  land,  and  leave  the  vessel ;  or  some  of 
us  can  g-o  for  help,  and  others  stay  on  board." 

"  I  wonder  if  tlie  vessel  is  safe  here." 

"  0,  safe  enough  —  if  a  gale  don't  sj>ring  up.  In 
that  case  she  might  get  knocked  on  tlie  bank.'' 

''  We  doii't  seem  to  have  been  hurt  by  our 
knocking  u])  there,"  said  Arthur.  "  There's  no 
water  in  the  hold." 

"  0,  she's  all  right,''  said  l^ruce  ;  '^  and  she's  a 
gallant,  gallant  ship,  as  the  song  says." 

The  vessel  was  steadily  floated  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  shore  as  the  tide  rose,  and  the  boys  watched 
her  progress  with  close  attention.  At  about  three 
o'clock  they  could  expect  to  be  up  to  the  bank, 
and  then  they  would  have  to  find  some  way  to 
fasten  her. 

Suddenly  Bart,  who  had  been  looking  down  the 
shore,  pointed  to  something,  and  said, — 

"  Look,  look  !     Do  you  see  that  ?  " 

"What?" 

"  Don't  you  see  a  line  —  running  along  about  a 
mile  away  ?  " 

"  What,  a  thin,  dark  line  ?    Yes.    What  of  it?  " 

"  Why,  it's  a  wier  for  fish.  It  shows  that  people 
must  be  living  not  far  from  here.  It  shows,  too,  that 
we  can  get  si)mething  to  eat  at  low  tide,  even  if 
there  are  no  people.  So,  hurrah,  boys  !  we're  all 
right  yet." 

"  The   fact  is,"  said   Bruce,  solemnly,  "  I  must 


192 


THE  n.  0.  w.  c. 


Mil 


it  ir 


ill 


confess  that  I'm  starving.  IVo  felt  the  panga 
of  hunger  for  the  last  two  hours,  and  1  can't 
stand  it  any  longer.  I'm  going  to  have  a  regu- 
lar rummage  down  below,  for  I'm  bound  to  find 
something." 

All  the  rest  followed  Bruce  as  he  went  below, 
and  they  began  to  overhaul  the  whole  vessel.  For 
some  time  they  found  nothing  but  a  beggarly 
array  of  emi)ty  boxes,  and  loud  were  their  mur- 
murs and  complaints. 

''  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that  miserable  Sammy 
Ram  Ram,  we'd  have  a  few  turkeys  and  chickens 
here,"  said  Bruce.  *^  How  that  fellow  and  Johnny 
Blue  managed  to  get  through  with  them  all,  I  can't 
understand." 

^'  Pooh !  those  two  fellows  did  nothing  else  but 
stuff  from  the  time  they  came  on  board  till  they 
got  to  Pratt's  Cove.  Captain  Corbet  and  the  mate 
helped  them,  and  so  did  Pat,  too,  no  doubt.  I 
haven't  any  hard  feeling  against  any  of  them,  but 
I  must  say  I  wouldn't  be  sorry  if  their  food  didn't 
agree  with  them." 

'^  Hallo  !  What's  this  ?  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Tom, 
suddenly. 

"  What,  Tom,  —  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  See  here,"  cried  Tom,  triumphantly.  "  Arn't 
we  in  luck  ?  Don't  ever  fret  again,  boys.  Here's 
a  half  loaf  of  bread  that  I  found  in  the  corner. 
It's  rather  stale,  a  little  too  dry,  and  too  hard, — 
but  I  think  it's  about  the  nicest  morsel  I  ever  saw. 


^^1 


KEADY    FOR   RELIEF. 


193 


; 


We've    got  our  dinner   provided  for  us,  and  we 
needn't  hanker  alter  raw  lisli  from  the  wiers  any 


u 


more. 

Tom'rt  joy  was  fully  shared  by  all ;  and  the  half 
loaf  of  hard,  stale,  dried-up  bread  was  quickly 
divided  into  tive  pieces,  and  eagerly  devoured  by 
the  famished  boys. 

"  And  now,"  said  Bruce,  *'  I  feel  like  a  giant  re- 
freshed, ril  go  on  deck  and  have  another  look  at 
the  situation.  My  [)rivate  opinion  is,  however, 
that  if  tiiey're  coming  after  us,  they'd  better  come. 
The  tide's  getting  higher  every  minute  ;  and  if 
they  get  here  after  we've  fastened  her  to  the  shore, 
and  got  her  high  and  dry,  tliey'U  have  to  wait  for 
twelve  good  hours  before  they  can  get  her  to  float 
off  again,  —  not  to  speak  of  spring  tides.  Do  you 
know,  Bart,  if  this  is  spring  tide  ?  " 

"  1  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Bart. 

"  Well,  then,  we'll  have  to  trust  to  luck,  I  sup- 
pose. At  the  same  time  I've  a  great  mind  to  go 
ashore  and  reconnoitre." 

"  I'll  go  too,"  said  Bart. 

"  And  so  will  I,"  said  Arthur. 

"  And  I,"  said  Phil. 

"  I'll  go  too,"  said  Tom.  *'  But  oughtn't  some 
of  us  to  stay  on  board  ?  " 

"  Stay  on  board  ?     What  for  ?  " 

"  0,  to  watch  the  vessel." 

"  Why,  what  good  will  that  do  ?  " 

"  She  may  drift  off." 


t;  : 


'!''! 


104 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


K' 


I    ' 


"  Well,  why  sliould  any  of  lis  want  to  drift  off 
in  her?" 

"  I  don't  holiove  there's  any  cliance  of  lior  drift- 
ing off  wliilo  tho  tid(3  is  rising,"  said  Bruco  ;  ''and 
if  she  does  drift  oil",  I  think  we're  all  better  out  of 
her  than  in  her.  So  if  one  of  ns  goes  ashore,  we'd 
all  better  go.  It's  not  more  than  three  feet  deep 
at  the  bows,  and  there's  a  sand-spit  over  there 
within  easy  distance." 

"  I  wonder  if  there  are  any  quicksands." 

"  0,  we'll  have  to  run  the  risk.  There  arc  a 
couple  of  boat-hooks  there,  and  two  of  us  can  go 
ahead  and  try  the  ground  with  them.  It's  not  far 
to  the  spit." 

"  We'll  have  to  strip  and  carry  our  clothes  with 
us,"  said  Phil. 

"  Yes.  It  would  be  a  great  joke  if  we  left  our 
clothes  behind,  and  the  vessel  drifted  off  with 
them." 

The  boys  now  proceeded  to  undress  themselves, 
and  prepare  to  go  ashore.  Each  one  tied  up  his 
clothes  in  a  compact  bundle.  Bruce  and  Bart 
took  each  a  boat-hook,  which  lay  in  the  schooner  ; 
Arthur  took  a  handspike,  and  Tom  and  Phil  found 
a  stout  stick  each.  Thus  equipped,  they  prepared 
for  the  iournev. 

It  was  about  one  o'clock,  and  the  tide  would  not 
be  liigh  for  two  hours  yet.  In  front  of  them,  and 
between  them  and  the  bank,  lay  a  broad  expanse 
of  mud  flats,,  separating  them  from  the  bank  by  at 


fiOIN(;    ASHORE. 


11)5 


least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  distaiu-c.  On  tlnu'r 
ri^lit^  liowcvcr,  was  a  jdacc  wliicli  ^-avo  tlicin  a 
chance  of"  a  mucli  lictter  lootliold  than  tlnit  whicli 
was  olVcrcd  by  the  sh'j>|)('rv  mikI  treacherous  mud. 
This  Wiis  a  Ion;;'  sand-spit,  whicii  stretcheil  out 
from  tlie  hank,  and  lan  (town  across  tlie  mud  Hat 
and  into  the  water.  It  approached  to  witiiin  a 
hundred  yards  of"  the  scliooiier,  and  atl"or(h'(l  not 
only  a  ^-ood  walkinu-place,  l)nt  a  much  nearer 
clianee  of  (h'y  land  than  was  ])ossihh'  anvwhcre 
else.  Runnin<j;  down  over  tlie  Hat,  it  rose  above 
it  to  a  iieijj;lit  of"  f"rom  twelve  to  twenty  inches,  and 
was  covered  witli  sand,  <;ravel,  and  round  cohhle- 
stones.  It  was  to  this  phice  that  they  intended 
to  ^o. 

Bruce  led  the  way.  Descending-  carefully  over 
the  bows,  he  drof)ped  into  the  water,  wliicli  he 
found  up  to  his  arm])its.  The  otiiers  followed, 
and  found  it  deeper  for  their  shorter  stature.  Ft 
was  over  the  slioulders  of  Hart  and  IMiil.  IJart, 
however,  took  his  place  by  IJruce's  side,  and  j)re- 
pared  to  walk  ahead  with  his  pole.  'J'iieir  first 
object  was  to  get  into  shallower  water,  an<l  so  they 
walked  in  the  direction  of  the  shore  until  the  water 
was  not  above  their  waists.  Then  they  turned  to 
the  right,  toward  the  sand-spit. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  bundles,  they  could 
have  varied  their  progress  by  swinnning ;  but  as 
it  was,  they  had  to  wack',  and  feel  the  way  cau- 
tiously, for  fear  of  air-holes  and  quicksands.     The 


i  V 


lOG 


THi:  n.  (>.  w.  c. 


m 


h' 


m 


I ) 


','  ! 

!    ■ '        ' 


sniTaco  mud  liencatli  tlicir  feet  wms  vorv  soft;  lnit 
tlicy  (li«l  not  sink  vorv  (lL'oi>ly,  and  with  cvory  step 
tlicv  arnuirt'd  frcsli  coulidcncc  As  tlu'V  noarcd 
the  sand-spit,  t!io  bottom  ^row  sensiMy  liardur.  and 
slioaled  lapidly,  till  it  was  nut  much  abovo  their 
kneos.  At  Iciiuth  it  became  a  sandy  bottom,  and 
they  walked  along  mure  rapidly,  n(j  lunger  I'eeling 
their  way. 

Suddcsnlv  tlioy  were  startled  by  a  wild  shout 
from  Arthur.  He  liad  l)een  walking  behind  with 
JMiil,  and  was  some  distance  from  the  others,  when 
rapidly,  between  him  and  them,  darted  the  form 
of  a  large  iish,  which,  in  that  shoal  water,  was  as 
visible  as  if  it  were  on  land.  At  the  cry  which  he 
gave,  JJruce  and  the  others  turned,  and  saw  Arthur 
with  his  handspike  in  the  air,  and  the  fish  flounder- 
ing and  splashing  close  beside.  For  a  moment  the 
blood  of  all  of  them  froze  Avith  horror;  the  next 
instant  Arthur  s])rang  forward,  and  dealt  a  tre- 
mendous blow  with  his  heavy  handspike  full  on  the 
head  of  the  fish. 

The  monster  splashed  and  struggled,  and  moved 
back  into  deeper  water  fur  a  few  feet. 

"  Run,  run  !  "  cried  Arthur.  ''  It's  a  shark  I 
Run  for  your  lives  !  " 

The  buys  all  set  off  as  fast  as  they  could  toward 
the  sand-spit,  which  now  was  close  by  them. 

But  the  fish  was  not  to  be  easily  escaped.  In  a 
few  minutes  it's  dark  form  was  beside  them,  and 
soon  it  crossed  innnediately  in  front  of  Bruce  y,nd 


'  vri 


1. 


a 


to 


r. 


■  il 


It 


r  !- '!! 


FKJUT    WITH    A    SHARK. 


197 


Bart.  Mechanically,  and  in  utter  horror,  both  the 
boys  8\vung  up  their  boat-hooks,  and  dashed  them 
wildly  against  the  dark  fi}j;'ure.  Both  struck  home. 
There  was  a  tearful  s{)lashing'  and  writhing.  JJart's 
boat-hook  was  wrenched  from  his  hand,  and  the 
fish  darted  forward  into  shoaler  water. 

"  Run,  boys,  run  !  "  shouted  Bruce,  holding  his 
boat-hook  toward  the  fish,  and  slowly  retreating, 
so  as  to  keep  the  monster  in  sight.  Away  they 
went,  Phil  and  Tom  first,  then  Arthur.  Bart  moved 
forward,  and  then,  seeing  his  pole  floating  a  few 
feet  on  one  side,  made  a  rush  for  it  and  secured  it. 
Then  he  kept  by  Bruce's  side,  ready  to  help  him  in 
guarding  the  retreat  of  the  others. 

The  fish  continued  to  splash  and  writhe  about, 
either  because  he  was  bewildered  b}'  the  shoal 
water,  or  else  because  he  was  suffering  from  the 
wounds  which  had  been  inflicted.  As  he  did  not 
pursue,  Bruce  and  Bart  took  fresh  courage. 

''  Let's  finish  him,  Bruce  !  "  cried  Bart. 

''  Pitch  in,  then  1 "  cried  Bruce  ;  and  rushing  at 
the  fish,  he  drove  his  boat-hook  point  deep  into  his 
side,  while,  at  the  same  time,  Bart,  raising  his  into 
the  air,  struck  down,  so  that  the  hooked  part  pene- 
trated and  held. 

^'  ITook  him,  Bruce  !  "  shouted  Bart.  '^  Let's 
drag  him  ashore."  Bruce  raised  his  pole  to  do  so; 
but  at  that  instant  the  struggling,  writhing  fish 
turned  towards  them  with  I'urious  energy,  and 
moving  over  on  its  side,  it  tried  to  twist  Bart's 


m 


108 


THE    B.    O.    W.    C. 


hook  out  of  its  flesh.  Tlie  wator  was  so  shallow 
that  it  could  not  have  full  exercise  of  its  streii^^th, 
and  Bart  held  on.  The  fish,  in  its  strn';f>les,  opened 
its  gas})ing'  month,  showiiifi;  wide  rows  of  sharp, 
triangular  teeth.  At  that  instant  Bruce  lowered 
his  pole,  and  drove  it  straight  into  the  open  mouth, 
forcing  it  deep  into  the  throat.  The  monster,  in 
its  agony,  closed  its  jaws,  and  held  it  with  a  death- 
like tenacity. 

A  cry  of  triumph  burst  from  Bruce  and  Bart. 

'*  ITurrah,  hoys  !  We've  got  him  !  "  they  cried. 
"  Pull,  Bruce,  nearer  the  shore  —  into  shoaler 
water." 

The  water  w\as  already  too  shoal  for  the  fish, 
which  had  so  carelessly  thrown  himself  into  it,  and 
}"is  resistance  could  not  prevent  the  united  energies 
of  Bruce  and  Bart  from  dragging  him  forward  a 
few  paces.  But  that  was  all.  Rousing  himself, 
the  monster  tossed,  and  writhed,  and  struggled, 
and  lashed  the  water  into  foam.  Bruce  and  Bart 
could  no  longer  di-ag  him.  It  was  a  struggle 
between  them  ;  but  the  boys  had  now  got  their 
blood  up,  and  they  would  have  been  dragged  back 
to  the  schooner  rather  than  loose  their  hold. 

The  fish,  in  its  fury  or  its  agony,  still  kept  its 
teeth  closed  on  Bruce's  pole,  and  strove  to  wrench 
it  out  of  his  grasp.  His  tremendous  efforts  were 
prevailing  against  their  united  strength,  and  were 
dragging  them  farther  out.  Bart's  hook  had 
already  been   thrown   olf,  and   he  was   plunging 


VICTORY. 


199 


the  pointed  iron  again  and  again  into  the  fish's 
side. 

At  this  instant  Arthur  came  dashing  through 
the  foam.  Raising  liis  heavy  handspilve  in  the  air, 
he  poised  it  tor  a  moment  so  as  to  take  sure  aim, 
and  tiien,  with  tremendous  force,  tiie  weapon 
descended  full  on  the  monster's  head.  It  was  a 
crushing  blow.  The  struggles  and  writhings 
ceased,  and  changed  to  feeble  motions  and  oc- 
casional convulsive  vibrations.  It  resisted  no 
longer.     It  was  powerless. 

They  dragged  it  upon  the  dry  ground  of  the 
sand-spit,  and  examined  their  conquest. 

The  tish  was  about  five  feet  long,  very  broad  at 
the  head  and  shoulders,  with  a  very  wide  mouth, 
armed  with  several  rows  of  saw-like  teeth.  The 
nose  was  rounded,  and  the  jaw  was  underneath. 
Its  back  was  a  dark  slate  color,  and  its  belly  white. 

"  It's  what  we  call  a  Shovel-mouth  Shark,"  said 
Bruce,  as  he  looked  at  it,  and  admired  its  pro- 
portions. 

"  They  call  it  a  Dog  Fish  with  us,"  said  Bart. 

"It  certainly  is  a  kind  of  shark,"  said  Arthur; 
"  and  as  that  sounds  better,  we'll  call   it  by  that 


i-tM 


name. 

Boys, 

we've 

fought 

and  killed  a 

shovel- 

mouth 

shark  ! 

Let 

the 

'B. 

0.  W.  C   remember 

that  !  " 

"We 

must 

keep 

his 

jaws 

as  a  trophy 

,"   said 

Bruce. 

"  Let's 

cut  hi 

m  u 

J  and 

get  his  jaws. 

Who's 

got  a  knife  ?  " 

■ 

1 

i 

r 

j 

1 

■' 

i ' 

il 

1: 

J 

i,  '.  .1 

i 


"1  n^ 

M-il 

I-;    ',  -p. 


|: 


200 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C 


"  ITore,"  said  Artlnir. 

Thereupon,  with  the  aid  of  tlie  knife,  the  fish  was 
dissected.  ]n  tlie  stomacli  they  found  a  fis!i  quite 
as  remarkable  as  the  one  which  had  swallowed  it. 
It  was  a  sculpin,  a  fish  whose  bony  covering,  and 
spiny  back,  and  lujrny  head,  and  wonderful  vo- 
racity, make  it  seem  like  those  primeval  fish  that 
swam  in  the  waters  of  the  world  in  an  age  when 
all  the  inhabitants  thereof  were  formed  on  a 
similarly  monstrous  model. 

"  What  a  fish,"  cried  Bart,  "  to  s'svallow  a  scul- 
pin !  lie  nnist  be  a  real  shark,  after  all,  for  a  shark 
could  not  beat  that.  I  thought  that  it  might  have 
been  by  accident  only  that  he  met  us,  but  it  seems 
now  as  though  he  was  ravenous  enough  to  mean 
mischief.  Ton  my  word,  if  rd  known  about  that 
sculpin,  I  think  I  would  have  run  away  instead  of 
staying  to  fight." 

After  examining  the  fish,  the  jaws  were  removed, 
and,  carrying  them,  they  walked  up  the  sand-spit  to 
the  shore.  Then  dressing  themselves,  they  sat 
down  and  rested  for  a  time.  Then  Bruce  and  Bart 
climbed  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  and  went  in  different 
directions  to  explore.  On  coming  back,  each  had 
the  same  story.  They  had  met  with  nothing  but 
fir  trees  and  alder  bushes,  and  had  not  seen  a  sign 
of  any  house  whatever.  On  this  they  all  decided 
to  go  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  and  wait  patiently 
until  the  tide  was  high,  then  fasten  the  schooner 
as  well  as  they  could,  leave  a  message  on  board  tc 


EXPLUIIATIOXS. 


>01 


indicate  their  course,  and  set  oflf  alonp^  the  coast 
in  search  of  inliabitants.  With  this  decision,  they 
climbed  tlie  bank  to  a  conspicuous  position,  and 
there  waited. 

The  tide  rose  liiglier  and  liigher.  Eacli  increase 
in  the  depth  of  the  water  allowed  the  schooner  to 
approach  nearer  to  the  shore,  though  there  was  a 
sidelong  drift,  which,  from  time  to  time,  changed 
her  position,  sometimes  presenting  her  bows  to  the 
beach,  at  other  times  her  side. 

The  water  was  rising  higher  and  still  higher. 
The  mud  flats  extended  close  up  to  the  beach 
below,  but  the  beach  itself  was  formed  of  sand  and 
gravel,  and  rose,  by  a  steep  slope,  from  the  mud 
flat  to  the  base  of  the  bank,  i^y  two  o'clock  the 
water  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  gravel. 

"  It  will  take  an  hour  more,"  said  Bruce,  "  before 
it  gets  to  high-water  mark.  One  hour  more,  boys, 
and  then  off  we  must  go  to  explore  the  country." 


fP 


^ 


i! 


¥  ■  ■ 


ii  li 


i 


202 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


XV. 

Scratching  for  Claras.  —  How  not  to  eat  them. — 
Fearful  Consequences  of  Folly.  —  A  formidable 
Medicine  Chest.  —  Prevention  better  than  Cure. 

Jf|j\EANWHILE  the  people  at  Pratt's  Cove 
llu  waited  for  the  return  of  the  captain  and 
C"^  his  company.  The  boys  liad  excited  tlie 
deepest  sympathy  of  Mrs.  Pratt  by  their  loss  of 
appetite,  and  she  was  anxious  about  the  lost  vessel. 
They  had  not  eaten  anythi'ig  for  tea;  and  after 
the  meal  was  over,  they  walked  down  to  their  old 
place.  It  was  about  half  past  six  o'clock,  and  a 
large  part  of  the  cove  was  already  uncovered  by 
the  receding  tide. 

"  I  wonder  if  there's  any  duck  left,"  said  Jiggins, 


witl 


I  a  sitrii 


gh 


"  Or  roaster,"  said  jMucklc,  with  another  sigh. 

"  No,"  said  Pat,  mournfully.  '^  Sammy  and  Johnny 
have  disposed  av  thim." 

Sammy  and  Johnny  both  looked  innocently  down, 
and  by  their  silence  acknowledged  the  soft  im- 
peachment. 

''  Pve  a  presentiment,"  said  Jiggins,  '^  that  I'm 
going  to  be  very  hungry  betbre  bed  time." 


1 


}] 


WHAT   TO    EAT. 


203 


"  I  shouldn't  wonrler  if  some  of  the  rest  of  us 
were  like  you,"  said  Muckle. 

"  And  now,"  said  Jiggins,  in  a  grave  and  solemn 
tone,  "  what  ought  we  to  do  ?  " 

''  We  haven't  much  time  left,"  said  Mucklo,  s^ig- 
gestively. 

''  Something  must  be  done,"  said  Jiggins,  em- 
phatically. 

"  And  soon,  too,"  added  Muckle. 

'^  Deed,  tliin,  an'  why  don't  ye  go  afi'  an'  do 
somethin'  ?  "  said  Pat,  energetically.  "  Come,  now, 
whatever  ye  do,  I'm  yer  man.  Is  it  another  duck 
ye  mane  ?  " 

Jiggins  shook  his  head. 

"  It  would  hardly  do  —  " 

"  Do  —  it  jist  wud,  thin." 

Jiggins  shook  his  head. 

"  The  fact  is,  I  have  my  doubts  about  it.  I  don't 
tliink  it's  altogether  right." 

''  Thill  what  made  ye  ate  it  for  ? "  said  Pat. 
•'  There  wor  others  that  thought  it  was  all  right  — 
they  did." 

"  I  felt  badly  while  eating  it.  I  felt  it  was  — 
not  —  right." 

"  Do  ye  mane  it  wasn't  done  right  ?  " 

Jiggins  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,"  said  Pat,  "  if  ye  didn't  like  the  duck, 
how  did  ye  like  tlie  pig  ?  Ye'll  not  be  findiii'  lault 
with  that,  I  think." 

Jiggins  shook  his  head. 


iW 


III 


ill 


1    L  a.; 


\m 


in 


^!    IMI 


mm 


mm  I 


r-ii 


204 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


"  I  have  my  doubts." 

''  O,  botlionition  take  your  doubts.  Why  didn't 
ye  doubt  before  ye  sat  down  ? '' 

Jiggins  shook  his  head. 

"  1  tell  you  what,"  said  Muckle  ;  "  I've  got  an 
idea." 

"What?  "cried  all. 

<' Clams!"  said  Muckle. 

''  Clams  ?  "  said  Jiggiiis. 

"  Look,"  said  ^luckle,  waving  his  hand  over  to- 
ward the  flats  ;  "  do  you  see  that  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  it's  full  of  clams," 

"Why,  of  course  —  of  course,"  said  Jiggins. 
"  Why,  so  it  is.     What  do  you  say,  boys  ?  " 

"  I  say  yis,"  cried  Pat.  "  Ilurroo,  boys  !  if  we 
can't  have  a  duck,  or  a  roaster,  again,  we'll  have 
clams." 

"  Hand  along  a  basket  then,  Sammy,"  said  Jig- 
gins. 

As  Sammy  gave  him  one,  he  said,  — 

"  Now,  you  two,  are  you  coming  ?  " 

"  Well  —  no  —  we  don't  care  about  it,"  said 
Sammy. 

"  Well,  you  wait  here  and  kindle  the  fire,  and 
get  a  pot  ready.  We'll  cook  them  the  moment  we 
get  back." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  two  boys. 

Upon  this  Jiggins,  and  Muckle,  and  Pat  started 
off  after  the  clams.     Before  leaving  the  shore,  they 


^y.]] 


CLAMS. 


205 


got  some  sticks  to  use  for  scraping  up  tlio  suiid, 
Mud  then  directcMl  tlicir  steps  toward  the  crcok 
Tlio  creek  ran  througli  tlio  middle  of  the  cove,  and 
on  each  side  of  it  the  wide  flats  extendiMl  up  to  the 
shore.  Tiiese,  toward  the  lower  i)art  of  the  cove, 
were  formed  of  soft  mud,  hut  at  the  uj)per  part 
they  consisted  of  sand,  in  wiiich  a])])eared  a  nndti- 
tude  of  little  holes,  which  are  generally  called 
breathing-holes,  al)out  these  parts,  under  the  im- 
pression that  they  serve  this  pur])ose  for  the 
clams.  By  digging  where  these  little  holes  are 
seen,  the  clams  may  be  found  buried  in  the  sand 
and  mud. 

Toward  tlio  upper  place  they  walked  ra])idl)' 
and  eagerly,  and  looked  anxiously  around  for  the 
"  breathing-holes." 

"  Here,"  said  Muckle.     "  There  are  lots  here." 

Both  went  toward  where  he  stood. 

'^  See,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the  sand,  which  was 
dotted  with  little  holes  all  around  the  place  where 
they  were  standing. 

"  That,"  said  Muckle,  "  is  a  sure  sign." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Jiggins. 

"  Well,  let's  go  in." 

"  An'  is  there  oysters  here,  too  ?  "  asked  Pat. 

"  No  ;  only  clams." 

"  It's  sorry  I  am  for  that  same,  thin.  Oysters 
are  a  dale  betther." 

"  0,  clams  ain't  bad,"  said  Muckle,  "  wheu  you 
can't  get  oysters.     So  pitch  in,  Jiggins." 


i 


"fl 

I 

( 

1 

i 

1' 

:  ! 
1 

1  1 

'  ! 

m 


I,'  ■ 


i 


206 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


And  Miicklc,  taking  liis  stick,  began  to  scoop  up 
tliG  sand. 

Jiggins  began  to  do  the  same ;  and  for  some 
time  both  worked  diligently. 

''  Pooh  !  "  said  Jiggins,  at  last.  "  That  stick's 
no  good." 

"No  good?     Why  not?" 

"  It  won't  hold  the  sand." 

"  Mine  does  very  well." 

"  Well,  I  might  as  well  have  nothing.  It's  like 
trying  to  eat  rice  with  a  chopstick,  Chinese  liishion. 
I'm  going  to  try  another  plan." 

"  What's  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  like  the  hens.  I'm  going  to  scratch  for 
my  food,"  said  Jiggins.  "  What  were  fingers  made 
for  ?  " 

And  saying  this,  ho  began  scratching  up  the 
sand. 

"  Bedad  !  an'  if  you're  the  hen,  I'll  be  the 
chicken,  an'  ate  what  you  scratch  up." 

"  Will  yt)U  ?  "  asked  Jiggins. 

"  I  will  thin." 

"  Whatever  I  scratch  up  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  if  they're  clams." 

"■  But  you'll  have  to  eat  them  raw." 

"  Well,  sure  it's  raw  I  mane." 

"  Why,  man  alive,  it'll  make  you  sick." 

"  I'll  risk  it.     Sick  is  it  ?     Not  a  bit  of  it." 

"  Bid  you  ever  eat  any  raw  clams,  Pat  ?  " 

"  Av  coorse.     Why  not  ?  and  raw  oysters,  too." 


T| 


PAT    AxNI)    Tin;    (I, A. M.S. 


207 


"  Well,  yon  won't  Iilaino  ino  ?" 

''  Is  it  l)lainc'  ?     Not  a  bit  of  it.     Nivcr  faro." 

"  (),  well,  I'll  scratch  for  you  then." 

"  (Jo  ahead,  thin." 

So  Jiggins  began,  and  seratclied  for  some  time. 

"  Here's  your  first  clam,"  said  he,  throwing  out 
one  to  Pat. 

Pat  opened  it,  and  swallowed  it  with  extraor- 
dinary celerity. 

"  Doesn't  that  look  as  if  I  knowod  how  ?  "  said 
he,  biting  off  the  black  tip  of  the  clam,  and  throw- 
ing it  down.     "  Scratch  them  along,  my  boy." 

"  All  right ;  here's  another." 

"  An'  here's  to  your  very  good  health,  an'  long 
life  to  ye,"  said  Pat,  as  he  swallowed  it. 

"  Here's  another  —  and  here  —  and  here  —  and 
hero,  too  —  and  here's  three." 

"  Faith,  thin,  the  more  the  merrier,  and  it's 
meself  that's  glad  to  see  tliim  same,"  said  Pat,  as 
he  seized  and  opened  them,  one  by  one,  and  sent 
them  flying  after  the  others. 

"  How  do  you  feel  now  ?  "  asked  Jiggins,  after 
he  had  scratched  for  some  time. 

"  Sure  I  feel  better  than  iver  ;  an'  why  not?  " 

''  All  right.     Here  are  some  more.     Go  it,  Pat." 

"  Go  it  it  is,"  said  Pat,  seizing  the  clams  with 
undiminished  avidity,  and  devouring  them. 

"  Hero's  more,  Pat.  Don't  blame  me  if  you  see 
the  ghost  of  your  grandmother  in  your  dreams  to- 
night.    And  here's  more.     Don't  blame  me  if  you 


'■  *<.] 


m 


■  J  ;  • 


i«H| 

1 

P  ' 

1 

¥ 

^1 

m%  1 

1 

1 

208 


THE   R.    O.    W.    C. 


Iifivo  the  p^ripos,  aii<l  hiivc  to  stand  on  your  head 
all  nip:1it." 

"  Niver  yon  faro  for  nio  ;  hut  yon  go  on  wid  yer 
Hcratt'hin',  an'  let  nic  ate  in  pace." 

The  clams  now  came  forth  fast  and  furious, 
^luckle  had  found  a  ])lace  lllled  with  them,  and  had 
heaj)ed  up  his  hasket.  .Jii:«;ins  had  a  Iar^;e  pile  on 
the  Hand,  in  front,  of  which  I'at  had  taken  his 
station,  and  was  vainly  trying  to  keep  up  with 
Jiggins.  But  it  was  impossihle,  for  .liggins  had 
found  large  inunbers  closely  packed  together. 

'' What's  the  matter  over  there  ?"  said  Mucklo. 
"  Have  you  filled  your  basket,  .liggins  ?  " 

*'  Not  yet.  I'm  busy  tilling  Pat,"  said  Jiggins. 
"  Hallo,  Pat,  you're  slow  about  it." 

"  Niver  fare.  Slow  is  it?  Thin  Pll  bo  up  wid 
ye  before  long.  On'y  give  me  time,  as  the  school- 
master said  when  they  wor  examinin'  him  on  the 
ali)habet." 

"  All  right.  But  while  I'm  waiting,  I'll  put 
these  in  the  basket,"  said  Jiggins  ;  and  he  began 
to  fill  his  basket  from  the  pile. 

"  How  can  I  ate  them  when  you're  putting  them 
in  the  basket  ?  "  said  Pat. 

"  ril  dig  up  plenty  more  —  enough  to  keep  you 
going." 

But  Jiggins  was  tired  ;  and  after  digging  up 
some  more  he  found  the  sand  tinged  red.  To  his 
amazement  he  saw  that  his  nails  were  worn  away, 
and  were  now  bleeding.     His  fingers'  ends  began 


1 


PAT   AND   THE   CLAjfs    rl^ACiKKE. 


209 


to  smart  witli  ucuto  puiii,  and  ho  was  comj)elled 
to  desiHt. 

"I  tliiiik  I'll  l>o  olF,"  siiid  he.  ''Wit,  you  may 
eat  Iron,  tlie  ha.sket." 

"  P'rom  llio  basket,  is  it?  Not  a  l)it  of  it,"  said 
Pat ;  "  rii  only  eat  from  your  scratchini;-." 

"  I've  scratched  the  basket  full  for  you,  a!id  that's 
ciiou^li.  In  fact  it's  too  mucli,"  lie  ad(le<l,  as  ho 
felt  iresh  stin<;-s  on  his  finger  tips.  "  Besides,  I've 
my  doubts  about  it." 

"  Yer  doubts,  is  it  ?  and  again  ?  An'  what  for 
this  time  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  I'm  afraid  it's  not  altogether 
fair  to  you." 

"  You're  a  quare  bird,  wid  yer  doubts,  an'  that's 
all  about  it,"  said  Pat. 

They  then  went  back  to  the  bank,  where  a  bright 
fire  was  Ijurning,  and  the  pot  was  all  ready,  with 
sea-water  boiling  in  it.  Into  this  they  threw  the 
clams ;  and  sitting  down  around  the  fire,  they 
waited. 

Pat  sat  in  silence.  There  was  a  peculiar  ex, 
pression  on  his  face.  He  grew  moody  and  pre- 
occupied.    Frecjuent  sighs  escaped  him. 

"  Wnat's  the  matter,  Pat  ?  "  asked  Jiggins. 

"  0,  nothin'." 

Pat  struggled  against  his  secret  grief  most 
valiantly,  but  soon  he  could  struggle  no  longer. 

A  deep  groan  burst  from  him,  and  he  fell  back 
doubled  up  and  writhing.  His  face  was  deadly 
U 


,^  ^  • 


I     ! 


210 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


pale,  and  big  drops  of  perspiration  stood  on  his 
brow.  In  his  |)ain  lie  rolled  over  and  over,  and 
moans  and  low  eries  escaped  him. 

'Mt's  the  elams  !  "  cried  Ji^\L;"ins.  "0,1  knew 
it.     I  had  my  donhts  about  it  all  the  time." 

"  What  can  we  do  ?  "  cried  Johnny. 

"  We'll  have  to  get  him  up  to  Captain  Pratt's," 
said  ^fuckle. 

But  for  a  long  time  they  could  do  nothing.  lie 
writhed  and  struggled  so  that  he  could  not  be 
moved.  At  last  Johnny  Blue  ran  up  for  Mrs. 
Pratt.  The  good  lady  came  down  with  a  basket 
full  of  infallible  remedies,  and  tended  poor  Pat  for 
some  time.  At  last  he  was  easier,  and  they 
managed  to  get  him  up  to  the  houso,  and  put  him 
in  bed. 

Jiggins  went  back  with  the  others,  and  finished 
the  clams.  All  were  silent  except  Jiggins,  who, 
every  little  while,  would  solemnly  shake  his  head, 
and  slowly  ejaculate, — 

'^  It  vas  not  right.  No,  boys,  it  was  7iot  right. 
I  felt  so,  for  T  had  my  doubts  about  it  all  the 
time." 

One  thing  surprised  Mrs.  Pratt  when  she  was 
administering  to  Pat's  woes  on  the  bank ;  and  that 
was,  the  very  savory  smell  of  that  clam  stew  wdiich 
was  simmering  in  a  pot  behind  the  bushes.  She 
could  not  understand  it,  but  concluded  that  it  must 
be  some  great  delicacy  among  the  vessel's  stores 
lying  on  the  bank,  which  had  so  very  fragrant  an 


MRS.    PRATT    MEDITATES. 


211 


ras 

liat 

Ich 

he 


-es 
lull 


odor.  Aftci'M-ard,  wlicii  lier  miiul  was  loss  pre- 
occupied,—  wlien  Pat  liad  been  well  rubbed,  and 
jHUilticed,  and  blistered,  and  plied  with  herb  tea, 
and  all  those  other  medicaments  which  the  "  medi- 
cine women  "  of  the  rural  districts  love  so  well ; 
alter  all  this  had  been  attended  to,  then  she  began 
to  think  once  more  about  that  fragrant  odor.  And 
gradually,  as  she  thought  about  it,  there  arose  in 
her  mind  a  conjecture  as  to  what  that  odor  might 
have  arisen  from ;  and  the  conjecture  gathered 
itself  inseparably  around  the  idea  of — ^'  clams." 

To  Mrs.  Pratt  that  thought  was  a  momentous 
one. 

For  what  did  that  involve  ? 

It  meant  that  there  was  danger  abroad, —  danger 
which  impended  over  the  young  charges  ct)nnnitted 
to  her,  and  which  she  must  counteract.  It  meant 
that  some  of  them  had  lieen  eating  clams  in  the 
month  of  May — an  act  which,  in  her  estimation, 
might  produce  coiise(j[uences  which  could  only  bo 
called  terrible. 

In  the  face  of  this  great  possible  danger,  ^Mrs. 
Pratt  gathered  herself  up,  and  prepared  to  meet 
it  boldly.  Already  all  her  doctoring  instincts  had 
been  roused  into  full  play  by  the  case  t)f  Pat,  and 
having  begun  a  good  work,  it  was  not  easy  to  stop 
abruptly.  Hhe  had  got  her  hand  in,  as  the  saying 
is,  and  she  wanted  to  finish  her  work.  It  did  not 
take  long  for  her  to  come  to  the  stern  conclusion 
that  the  work  must  be  fully  completed. 


fir 


h  t 


li 


:ti': 


[ 


212 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


So  she  first  of  all  brought  forth  her  little  store 
of  medicaments  of  all  kinds,  and  ranged  them  on 
the  kitchen  table.  They  presented  a  formidable 
show.     There  were,  — 


1  bottle  Mint  tea. 

1      '^ 

Essence  of  peppermint. 

1      " 

Ginger  extract. 

1      " 

Cayenne  pepper  extract. 

1      " 

Paregoric. 

1      " 

Rum  and  onions. 

1      " 

Sulphur  and  molasses. 

1      " 

Sour  cream. 

1      " 

Eye  wash. 

1      " 

Pratt's  pain  killer. 

1      " 

Hemlock  water. 

1      " 

Tar  water. 

1      " 

Poppy  juice. 

1      " 

Essence  of  smoke. 

1      " 

Brandy  and  salt. 

1      " 

Castor  oil. 

1      " 

Camomile  water. 

1      " 

Mineral  water. 

1      " 

Pratt's  antidote. 

1      " 

Hair  wash. 

1       t( 

p]ar  wash. 

1      " 

Toothache  drops. 

1      " 

Creosote. 

1      " 

Rowland's  Macassar  oiL 

1      " 

Cocoaine. 

1^ 


In  addition 


THE   MEDICINE   CLOSET. 

bottle  Salt  and  treacle. 


213 


I    '' 

Antil)iIious  mixture. 

[    " 

Arnica. 

(i 

Opodeldoc. 

a 

Hartshorn. 

u 

Aromatic  vinegar. 

a 

Sweet  oil. 

H 

Benzine. 

u 

Grease  eradicator. 

u 

Lye. 

a 

Tobacco  water. 

a 

Wild  honey. 

(I 

Lime  juice. 

a 

Alcohol. 

u 

Cod  liver  oil. 

u 

Neats  foot  oil. 

to  these,  she  had, 

parcG 

I  Wormwood. 

a 

Camomile  flowers. 

It 

Cardamum  seeds. 

u 

Birch  bark. 

11 

Spruce  gum. 

li 

Rosin. 

u 

Dandelion. 

11 

Elm  bark. 

11 

Elder  berries. 

li 

Hops. 

u 

Gum  arable. 

u 


Catnip. 


' 


k 


': 


2U 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


1  i^arcel 

Sj)(>arniiiit. 

1       " 

Pepporiiiiiit. 

1        '' 

Beeswax. 

1        " 

Koot  ginger. 

1       " 

Cloves. 

1       '' 

A  him. 

1       " 

]\Iagiiesia. 

1        " 

Balm  of  Gilead, 

1       " 

ITorseradisli. 

1       " 

Flagroot. 

1       " 

Sarsaparilla. 

1        '' 

Sassafras. 

1       '' 

Soap. 

1      pot 

Pomatmn. 

1     box 

Lard. 

1  buiidle 

Lint. 

1  parcel 

Senna. 

1     pot 

Mucilage. 

1  parcel 

Salts. 

1       '^ 

Cotton  wool. 

1       " 

Diacliylon. 

1     pot 

Mustard. 

1  parcel 

Calomel. 

1      box 

Blue  pills. 

1        " 

Cantharides. 

1        " 

Garlic. 

1        " 

White  lead. 

And  a   great   many  otlier    things,  which   had  ao 
cumulated    in    her   closet,   and    which    she    now 


THE   boys'   suspicion. 


215 


brought  fortli  for  tlio  especial  benefit  of  the  four 
boys.  Having  selected  some  from  among  those, 
slie  sat  cahnly  awaiting  tlieir  return. 

When  tlie  boys  came  back  from  tlie  bank,  — • 
wliere  they  iiad  been  enjoying  their  clam  stew, — ■ 
this  was  the  sight  that  greeted  their  eyes  on 
entering  the  kitchen :  a  table  filled  with  bottles 
and  vials,  another  table  filled  with  parcels  and 
bundles,  and  on  the  floor  jugs,  boxes,  kegs,  firkins, 
and  bags,  in  the  midst  of  all  of  which  sat  Mrs. 
Pratt,  with  her  eyes  gleaming,  from  behind  her 
spectacles,  upon  them,  and  an  expression  of  benev- 
olent yet  unshakable  resolution  upon  her  face. 

The  boys  entered  one  by  one,  and  took  their 
seats,  looking  suspiciously  around.  There  was 
something  in  the  general  appearance  of  things 
which  did  not  altogether  satisfy  them. 

"  Ehem  —  ehe-e-em  I "  said  Jiggins,  at  last,  to 
whom  the  suspense  was  becoming  intolerable. 

A  long  silence  followed. 

''  Ehem  ! "  he  remarked  again  ;  but  Mrs.  Pratt 
made  no  answer. 

"  Ehe-e-em  !  "  he  remarked  a  tliird  time.  "  Is  — • 
ah  —  is  Pat  —  all  —  any  better  ?  " 

"  Considerable,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt.  "  Yes,  con- 
siderable." 

"That's  right  —  that's  good.  I  feel  very  much 
relieved.  Pve  blamed  myself  very  much  for  letting 
him  do  as  he  did." 

Mrs.  Pratt  gave  a  long  sigh. 


>); 


'] 


216 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Yon  all 
had  clama,  as  well  as  he.  You  had  a  clam  stew. 
Wliy  should  lie  suffer  more'n  you'ns?  " 

The  boys  started,  and  looked  at  one  another. 
How  in  the  world  had  Mrs.  Pratt  found  out  about 
the  clams  ?  They  felt  uneasy  at  first,  but  soon 
recollected  that,  after  all,  cooking  clams  was  no 
harm.     So  they  regained  their  courage. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  said  Jiggins,  at  last,  "  it  was 
different  with  Pat.  We  had  them  cooked,  but  he 
ate  them  raw." 

"  And  you  think  that  makes  any  difference,"  said 
Mrs.  Pratt,  grimly. 

"Why,  certainly  —  of  course,"  said  Jiggins, 
looking  at  ^Irs.  Pratt  anxiously  ;  while  all  the  other 
boys  stared  at  her  in  dire  anticipation  of  some  fear- 
ful disclosure. 

"  Not  a  mite,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt.  "  There  isn't  a 
mite  of  difference  between  you,  —  all  of  you,  mind, 
and  him,  —  on'y  he  was  kind  o'  took  bad  at  onst, 
an'  you're  a  waitin'.  Let  me  see.  How  long  is  it 
since  you  finished  eatin'  ?  " 

"  0,  only  a  few  minutes,"  said  Jiggins,  ner- 
vously. 

"  Well,  I  supposed  so.  Ve-ry  well,"  repeated 
Mrs,  Pratt,  in  the  tone  of  a  cool  physician,  who 
feels  gratified  when  a  disease  takes  the  form  he 
suspected,  even  when  it  is  attended  with  pain  and 
danger  to  the  patient.  "  Yes,  that's  it ;  and  now 
can  you  remember  how  long  a  time  it  was  after 


I!        '  I 


V   ■ 


TROUBLE    AHEAD. 


217 


Pat  had  done  eating  the  raw  clams  to  the  fust 
pain  he  felt  ?  " 

The  boys  looked  in  fearful  anxiety  at  one 
another,  and  then  all  eyes  turned  to  Jijigins.  He 
turned  pale,  and  all  the  expression  of  his  flice 
changed  to  one  dismal  blank. 

'•  Can't  any  of  you  remember  ?  "  repeated  Mrs. 
Pratt.     ''  IJow  long  was  it  ?  " 

"  Well  —  as  near  as  I  can  remember,"  said  Jig- 
gins,  in  a  faltering  voice,  ^'  it's  —  about  —  1  should 
think  —  somewhere  near  —  perhaps  —  tlie  neigh- 
borhood of  half  an  hour  —  that  is,  more  or  less." 

"  About  half  an  hour.  I  thought  so,"  said  Mrs. 
Pratt,  remorselessly. 

"  Somewhere  about  that,"  said  Jiggins. 

"  Till  he  felt  his  fust  pains  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

''  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt,  with  a  benevolent  smile, 
"  somewhere  about  half  an  hour  from  this  you'll 
feel  the  same." 

She  paused,  and  watched  the  effect  of  this  fear- 
ful announcement. 

The  effect  was  powerful.  Four  pale  faces 
looked,  with  awful  eyes,  at  her,  and  at  one  another. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  in  reply. 

"  Yes,  every  one  of  you.  You've  all  eaten,  I 
s'pose." 

Jiggins  nodded  mournfully. 

"  And  plenty,  too." 

Another  nod. 


If 


7     . 


iH.i 


I 


'■ 


Ti'  If. 


r: 


1^ 


218 


TTIE  n.  o,  w.  c. 


"  Very  well.  You'll  liavo  it  liotand  heavy,  mind 
I  tell  you.  Pat  will  l)o  beginning  to  feel  quite 
comfortable  just  as  you  begin  to  get  took." 

'^  But  —  but,"  said  Jiggins,  rousing  himself 
des})airingly,  ''  I  thought  —  that  is,  1  always  heard 
—  that  elams  were  good  stewed  —  and  I  never 
heard  that  even  raw  clams  were  bad,  except  when 
you  took  too  many  of  them." 

"  Shows  how  your  parients  neglected  your  cdi- 
cation,"  said  Mrs.  Pratt,  loftily.  "  They  didn't  un- 
derstand the  iiiitur'  of  the  clam,  certain.  It  isn't 
the  cooking,  or  the  not  cooking,  of  the  clam  that 
makes  it  so  dangerous ;  it's  the  clam  itself —  or 
rather,  the  clam  at  this  season  of  the  year.  That's 
what  makes  it  dangerous." 

'^  This  season  of  the  year  ?  Why,  what's  that 
got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Haven't  you  ever  heard  of  that  ?  Pear  !  dear  I 
dear !  An'  yet  you  go  to  the  Academy,  and  don't 
know  about  clams.     Dear  !  dear  !  dear  !  " 

"  They  don't  teach  about  clams  there,"  said  Jig- 
gins,  morosely. 

"  So  you  don't  know  the  danger  there  is  in  eat- 
ing them  now." 

"  No." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  —  they're  pison !  " 

"  Poison  ! "  ejaculated  the  others,  in  horror  at 
the  thrilling  whisper  in  which  Mrs.  Pratt  hurled 
this  word  at  them. 

"  Yes,  pison  I  Hain't  you  ever  heerd  the  old 
lines.  — 


[ 


MRS.    PRATT   PRERrRTBER. 


219 


*  In  tlio  montlis  without  the  "  II," 
Clams  a  deadly  pison  are  '  ? 

That  means  May,  June,  July,  and  August.  Another 
verse  says,  — 

*  In  August,  May,  July,  and  June, 
All  shell  fishes  lead  to  ruin.' 

That  means,  you  see,  that  in  the  summer  months 
these  tliinp:s  are  as  bad  as  pison." 

"  Wliat  shall  we  do  ?  "  cried  Jiggins,  after  a  long, 
despairing  silence,  in  which  these  fearful  words 
sank  deep  into  the  hearts  of  all.  "  What  shall  we 
do?" 

"  Well,"  said  INfrs.  Pratt,  with  a  benevolent  smile, 
"  you'd  ort  ter  be  thankful  that  you've  got  me.  I 
am  jest  the  person  to  treat  your  case.  I've  got 
the  medicine  all  ready.  If  you  take  it  in  time, 
you  may  avoid  trouble.  As  there's  only  been  a 
few  minutes  sence  you  ate  the  pison  clams,  p'raps 
you  may  get  off  without  much  pain.  I've  jest 
got  some  herb  tea,  some  drinks  of  different  kinds, 
some  mustard  poultices,  and  two  or  three  more 
mixtures  for  you.  I  won't  bleed  any  of  you  if  I 
can  help  it.  Only  jest  give  yourselves  up  to  me, 
and  trust  to  me.  But  there  must  be  no  delay.  I 
have  the  mixtures  all  ready." 

Saying  this,  Mrs.  Pratt  rose  like  an  ogress,  and 
advanced  upon  the  unhappy  boys.  Filled  with 
fears  of  poison,  looking  upon  her  as  tlieir  only 
safety,  they  made  no  resistance,  but  swallowed, 


■  i  \ 


220 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


Hi 


i 


one  by  one,  the  nauseous  mixtures  which  were 
^ivcn.  And  still  she  stood  over  them,  talking 
about  the  danger  before  them,  and  forcing  upon 
them  more  medicaments. 

Then  came  the  mustard  plasters. 

But  enough.  Let  us  draw  a  curtain  over  the 
sufferings  of  the  unhappy  four. 


'T 


PATIENT   WAITING. 


221 


XVI. 

New  Hopes  and  Plans.  —  A  Sail!  —  A  bitter  Dis' 
appointment.  —  A  hazardous  Adve)dure,  and  a 
Friijht.  —  Quilts  for  Ihyas.  —  Another  tremen- 
dous Casualty. 


'HERE,  on  the  top  of  the  bank,  sat  the  five 

boys  of  the  "  B.  O.  W.  C./'  waiting  patiently. 

"  Only  an  hour  more,  boys,"  repeated  Bruce. 

"  Well,  if  they  don't  come,  we'll  survive  it,"  said 
Bart. 

"  I  suppose  w^e  shall  start  off  at  once,  if  they 
don't  come." 

"  Yes,  as  soon  as  the  tide  begins  to  fall." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  will  carry  the  schooner  with  it." 

"■  I  think  that  it  will." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  leave  it  aground." 

''  All  right.  That  will  be  so  much  the  better 
for  us.  It  would  be  a  pity  to  lose  the  schooner  so 
soon." 

"  0,  she  won't  be  lost." 

"Yes,  she  will.  What'll  prevent  her?  She'll 
be  carried  ashore  on  some  rocks  and  broken  to 
pieces,  or  she'll  drift  out  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy." 


222 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


"  O,  sho  liii.s  otluT  rliiincos  in  lior  favor.  Sho 
may  drift  on  some  niiid-llat  like  this,  or  slio  may  ho 
j)i('k('(l  up  oil  tlio  basin,  or,  if  slie  does  got  out  into 
tiio  I>ay  of  Fiindy,  slio  may  got  picked  up  there." 

"  That  may  bo  ;  but,  after  all,  it'll  bo  hard  on 
Corbet;  and  he's  rather  poor." 

"  It'll  servo  him"  right,"  exclaimed  Tom  Crawford. 
"  Ho  must  have  known  that  his  anchor  was  broken." 

"Well,  it  certainly  does  servo  him  right,  if  ho 
knew  that;  but  he's  a  careless  fellow,  and  1  dare 
say  ho  didji't  know  anything  about  it." 

"I  wonder  where  this  coast  goes?"  asked  Phil 
Kennedy. 

"  Well,  it  goes  in  two  directions,"  said  Bart. 
'*  Which  way  do  you  moan  ?  " 

"  The  right," 

"  0,  that  goes  to  Parrsboro'  Village ;  the  left 
loads  up  to  Pratt's  Cove." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  1  can't  tell  just  whore  Pratt's  Cove  is,  but 
I  know  the  direction  in  which  it  must  lie  from 
here,"  said  Bart.  "  You  can  toll  that  by  seeing 
the  way  the  Five  Islands  lie  toward  us.  If  they 
come  for  us,  they'll  have  to  come  from  behind  that 
headland." 

"  I  wonder  if  they'll  come  by  land  or  water." 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  can  come  by  land." 

"  There's  a  road,  I  suppose." 

"  O,  ever  so  far  back.  How  could  any  one  find 
anything  about  us  on  the    road?      No;    they'll 


7 


A   SAIL    IX  RinilT. 


como  by  water,  so  as  to  find  us  either  afloat  or 
asliore." 

"  There  isn't  any  boat  at  all  in  Pratt's  Cove." 

"  0,  there  nnist  be  other  coves  near,  whore  they 
can  p^et  other  lioats." 

"  It  will  be  hard  for  us,  if  they  don't  happen  to 
have  a  boat." 

"  0,  they'll  get  one." 

''  And  nieanv/hile  wo  must  act  for  ourselves  ;  for 
I  don't  believe  they'll  p^et  one  to-day,  at  any  rate." 

"  Yes,  we  may  as  well  i)rcpare  for  an  expedition 
along  the  coast." 

''  Shall  we  separate,  or  go  together?" 

"  0,  together,  by  all  means.  But,  hallo  !  what's 
that?" 

At  this  exclamation  from  Bart,  all  looked  where 
his  eyes  were  turned. 

"  A  schooner  !  "  they  cried  ;  "  a  schooner  !  There 
they  come  !     Hurrah,  boys  !  we're  all  right." 

Instantly  every  oiie  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Come,  boys,  take  olf  your  shirts,"  said  Bruce, 
as  he  pulled  off  his  own.  '^  Let's  get  ready  a  sup- 
ply of  red  bunting  to  make  signals  to  them." 

Instantly  all  of  them  tore  off  their  shirts,  and 
waved  them  wildly  from  the  top  of  the  bank. 

Yes,  it  was  a  vschooner.  It  had  come  thus  sud- 
denly upon  them  as  they  were  talking;  and  even 
though  they  had  been  on  the  constant  lookout,  yet 
its  appearance  had  startled  them  all.  It  was  twice 
as  large  as  the  Antelope,  of  a  bright  green  color; 


:>• 


f 


•n 


m 


ti 


II 


II 


«')  1  ?i 


mm  t 


m  i  HI 


224 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


its  masta  were  yellow,  and  its  sails  beautifully  neat, 
k^preading  its  snoAv-whitc  wings  to  the  breeze,  it 
came  bounding  over  the  waves  from  behind  the 
headland,  and  directed  its  course  in  toward  the 
shore. 

"  She's  not  heading  for  us  at  all,"  said  Bruce. 
"  If  slio  keeps  on  in  that  direction,  she'll  be  a  mile 
down  beyond  us  before  we  know  it." 

''  She  don't  see  us,"  said  Bart. 

'•  Wave  your  signals,  then !  Ah,  what  a  pity  we 
hadn't  a  good  signal-post !  " 

''  I'll  climb  a  tree,"  said  Pliil,  looking  around. 

"  There  isn't  any  tree  fit  for  the  purpose.  The 
highest  ones  are  hidden  by  the  smaller  ones  in 
iront.  This  is  as  conspicuous  a  place  as  we  can 
find. 


V 


Meanwhile  the  schooner  kept  on  at  an  angle 
v/ith  them,  and  pursued  her  way  without  taking 
any  notice  of  them,  heading  toward  a  point  far 
down  to  the  right  of  the  place  where  they  were 
standing. 

With  a  face  of  stern  determination,  and  the  air 
of  a  captain  of  a  battery,  Bart  drew  his  pistol. 

"I'll  fire,"  said  he,  solemnly. 

The  next  instant,  bang !  or,  rather,  pop !  went 
the  pistol. 

But  the  schooner  took  not  the  smallest  notice 
even  of  that  overpowering  demonstration.  On  the 
contrary,  it  kept  straight  on  without  altering  its 
course. 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


225 


"  They're  blind,  and  deaf,  too  ;  and  tliat's  all 
about  it,"  cried  Phil  Kennedy,  in  deep  disgust. 

"  I  wonder  what's  the  matter  with  them,"  said 
Bruce.  "  They  don't  keep  a  very  good  lookout, 
or  they'd  surely  see  us.  There's  red  flannel  enough 
here  to  be  seen  five  miles  off." 

"  I  wonder  who  is  steering." 

"  I  wonder  who  those  two  chaps  are  in  the  bow. 
Can  it  be  Bogud  and  the  mate  ?  " 

"  I  wonder  who  that  old  boy  in  a  pea-jacket  can 
be?     It  surely  can't  be  Mr.  Simmons?" 

"  It's  Captain  Corbet." 

"  Nonsense  !     Captain  Corbet  is  steering." 

"  No,  tliat's  the  mate." 

"  It  isn't,  either.  Don't  you  see  the  mate  on  the 
bow?" 

"  That  the  mate  I     That's  Mr.  Long." 

"  Bah  !  Mr.  Long  don't  generally  go  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves." 

"  Why  shouldn't  he  ?  I  s'pose  he  is  helping  the 
others.  He'd  just  as  soon  take  ofl'  his  coat  as  not, 
if  he  had  anything  to  do." 

"  It  isn't  Mr.  Long,  any  way." 

But  these  Avonders  and  conjectures  were  now 
interrupted  by  a  movement  on  the  part  of  the 
schooner.  She  had  already  gone  beyond  the  spot 
where  the  boys  were  standing,  and  had  come  to 
within  half  a  mile  of  the  beach.  She  now  wore 
round.  Flap  went  the  sails !  there  was  a  quick 
movement  on  board,  and  then  away  she  went  on 


.    I 


Mi 


n 


( ^ 


% 


I  ':! 


I 

IJtl 
I 
I 

i  fr 

1  -^- 1 


m^  - 


:t  K 


".'1 


i! 


226 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


another  tack,  with  her  head  turned  toward  the 
oi)posite  shore. 

"  She's  leaving  us  !  "  cried  Bruce,  agliast. 

For  a  few  moments  all  stood  in  silent  dismay. 
This  was  a  thing  which  they  were  not  prepared 
for.  If  no  schooner  had  come  at  all,  they  could 
easily  have  borne  up  ;  but  now,  since  one  had  come, 
they  had  not  for  a  moment  doubted  their  speedy 
deliverance.  There  was  not  hope,  but  certainty, 
in  her  appearance.  But  now  tiiis  was  dashed  to 
the  ground,  and  the  reaction  was  extreme. 

Bart  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

*'  1  tell  you  what,  boys,"  1  e  cried,  '^  I  don't  be- 
lieve it  was  them  at  all." 

"  0,  yes,  it  was,"  said  Arthur.  "  I  recognized 
Captain  Corbet." 

"  No ;  you  may  depend  upon  it,  you  were  utterly 
mistaken.  Wliy,  do  you  suppose,  if  they  were 
after  us,  they  would  have  come  and  gone  so  coolly  ? 
There  wasn't  the  slightest  sign  of  any  anxiety  or 
curiosity  about  them.  If  it  had  been  our  friends, 
they'd  have  seen  our  signals  soon  enough." 

"  Yes,  and  the  Antelope  down  there  nearly 
ashore." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  But  I  certainly  thought 
I  recognized  Captain  Corbet." 

"  I  thought  I  saw  Bogud." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  They  were  strangers,  and  that 
accounts  for  everything." 

"  And  now,"  said  Tom,  "  all  that  we've  got  to 


OFF   TO   THE   SrilOONER. 


227 


do  is  to  wait  for  a  few  minutes  more,  and   then 
start." 

"  I  say,  boys,"  said  Bart,  after  a  fit  of  musinji;, 
"  what  a  pity  it  is  tliat  we  ean't  fasten  the  vessel 
somehow,  and  keep  her  liere  !  There's  an  old  tree 
at  the  bottom  of  the  bank  big  enonp;h  to  moor  a 
ship  at.  If  we  could  only  get  a  line  around  it  from 
the  schooner,  wo  could  keep  the  vessel  here  till 
they  did  come." 

"  Yes,  that  would  be  the  best  plan,"  said  Bruce ; 
"  for  IVe  been  thinking  that  we  may  find  some 
people  here  who  would  sail  the  schooner  back  to 
the  cove.  It  would  be  a  great  pity  to  let  her 
drift." 

"  It's  a  pity  that  we  can't  get  at  her,"  said 
Arthur. 

"  And  why  can't  we  ?  "   asked  Bart. 

Why !  The  question  at  once  made  every  one 
stare  and  think.  Each  one  could  answer  in  his 
own  mind  why  such  a  thing  could  not  be  done, 
but  no  one  stated  such  a  reason.     All  were  silent. 

"  It's  not  very  far,"  said  Bart. 

"  No." 

"  Not  so  far  as  it  was  to  wade  when  we  landed." 

"  That's  a  fact." 

''  And  I  move  that  we  try  it." 

"Ah,  that's  all  very  well!"  said  Phil.  "But 
who  will  try  it?  " 

"  Well,  then,  /will,"  said  Bart. 
0,  then,  if  it  comes  to  that,  I'll  go  too,"  said 


'i 
I 


II 


Bruce. 


228 


THE  B.   0.  W.   C. 


Iff  ilf 


i: 


i.St;.,^    ! 


Um 


h  * 


"  So  will  I,"  sfiid  Arthur. 

"  And  I,"  said  Phil. 

"  And  I'll  be  with  you,  boyri,"  said  Tom. 

"  Of  course  you  will,"  said  Bart.  "  But  what's 
the  use  of  all  of  us  going.  Two  of  us  will  be 
enough.  JJruce  and  I  can  take  our  poles  and  do  it. 
It's  not  much  any  way." 

"  And  I'll  go  with  my  handspike,"  said  Arthur. 

''  In  fact,  I  don't  tliink  we  need  even  boat-hooks," 
said  Bruce.  "  The  bottom  is  liard  sand  just  there, 
all  the  way  out  to  the  vessel.  It's  as  safo  as  a 
floor." 

"  Yes,  except  for  one  thing,"  said  Arthur,  hold- 
ing up  the  jaw  of  the  fish. 

"  Ilm  !  "  said  Bruce.  "  For  my  part,  I  don't 
believe  there's  any  danger  just  liere.  It's  too 
near  the  bank.  I  never  heard  of  them  coming  in 
so  near  high-water  mark ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I 
dare  say  it  will  be  better  to  take  the  boat-hooks." 

"  0,  yes.  We'll  feel  safer,"  said  Bart, "  and  that's 
something.  One  advantage  will  be,  that  we  won't 
be  bothered  with  our  bundles." 

"  How  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  "  asked  Bruce. 

"  Well,  to  board  her  and  get  a  line." 

"  Will  any  of  the  lines  be  strong  enough  ?  " 

"  Well,  niy^  idea  is,  to  let  down  the  chain,  fasten 
the  rope  to  the  anchor  stump,  and  all  of  us  can 
then  drag  it  ashore.  We  can  then  wait  till  the 
tide  brings  the  vessel  near  enough  for  us  to  pass 
the  line,  or  the  chain,  around  the  tree." 


.?u, 


"f! 


THE   START. 


229 


"  That  ouglit  to  hold  it,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Of  course  it  will." 

"  Very  well  then.  Let's  start.  And  first  of  all, 
let's  stri})." 

"  I'll  take  the  pistol,  Bart,"  said  Phil,  as  Bart 
laid  it  down  before  taking  ofl'  his  belt ;  "  and  if  any- 
thing happens,  I'll  fire." 

"  All  right,  my  son,"  said  Bart. 

They  all  went  down  then  to  the  beach  below, 
where  they  stripped,  and  the  adventurous  five 
went  into  the  water,  although  only  three  were 
going  on  board  ;  for  Tom  and  Phil  felt  bound  in 
honor  to  share  the  possible  peril  of  the  others. 

The  water  had  risen  a  little  up  the  steep  de- 
clivity of  the  pebbled  beach,  and  the  vessel  was 
some  distance  nearer  than  she  had  been  when  they 
first  climbed  the  bank.  It  was  a  favorable  time 
for  starting,  but  not  so  much  so  as  it  would  be  in 
the  course  of  half  an  hour.  But  they  were  too  im- 
patient to  delay,  and  so  they  started.  As  it  was, 
they  had  not  more  than  fifty  yards  to  go. 

The  bottom  was  not  muddy  just  here,  but  com- 
posed of  hard  sand,  like  the  sand-spit  on  which 
they  had  landed.  The  water  was  ([uite  smooth, 
only  disturbed  by  a  gentle  ripple,  which,  firther 
out,  rose  into  small  waves.  The  descent,  like  that 
farther  out,  was  but  very  gradual,  and  it  was  only 
by  almost  imperceptible  degrees  that  the  water 
deepened. 

Bruce  and  Bart  went  first,  with  their  poles  held 


'"  I.. 

-'!,:■■ 

(!■'■ 


I   I  1^71 


230 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


I     l|: 


\'\ 


i        U: 


\l\ 


in  their  hands  in  sucli  a  way  that  they  were  able 
to  sphish  tlie  water  before  tliem,  so  that  if  there 
shouhl  cliance  to  be  any  more  "  sliovel-mouth 
sliarks "  near  by,  they  niijj^ht  take  notice  and 
govern  tliemselves  accordingly.  For  they  firmly 
believed  that  all  fish  are  friglitened  by  any 
splashing,  and  deterred,  just  as  wild  animals  are 
frightened  and  deterred,  by  tlie  flasliing  of  flames. 

Tom  and  Phil  followed  more  slowly,  the  former 
armed  with  a  boat-hook,  and  the  latter  with  tlie 
pistol.  The  distance  was  quickly  traversed.  The 
water  grew  deeper  and  deeper,  until  it  was  up  to 
Bruce's  armpits  and  Bart's  shoulders.  By  that 
time  they  touched  the  schooner's  bows. 

At  tliat  instant  a  splash  was  heard  close  by  them, 
and  the  movement  of  some  body  was  felt  amid  the 
waters. 

"  Up  !     Quick  !  "  cried  Bruce. 

"  You  go  first,"  said  Bart. 

"  I  won't,"  cried  Bruce. 

"  Nor  will  I,"  said  Bart. 

Bruce  said  no  more.  He  stooped  down,  and 
clasping  Bart  in  his  brawny  arms,  he  jerked  him 
up  out  of  tlie  water.  Bart  clambered  on  board, 
and  held  out  his  hand  to  Bruce.  Another  instant 
and  the  latter  stood  by  his  side.  Arthur  followed 
at  the  same  time. 

"  Did  you  see  that?  "  asked  Arthur. 

"  Yes.     Did  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.     What  was  it  ?  " 


WAS   IT    A   SHARK? 


231 


"  Another  sliovel-mouth  shark  —  wasn't  it?  " 

"  I  dun't  think  so.  It  wasn't  the  same  color.  It 
was  wliite." 

"  Perhaps  it  turned  over  to  bite." 

Arthur  shook  his  head. 

"  No.  It  came  between  us.  It  was  not  so  largft 
as  that  other  fellow.     It  dashed  oil' at  once.'' 

"  Perhaps  it  was  only  a  codfish,"  said  Bart. 

"  Well,  it  was  a  large  one,  then.  It  might  have 
been  a  porpoise.  I  wonder  if  porpoises  come  so 
near  the  shore." 

"  Sometimes,  but  not  often." 

''  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  a  sturgeon,"  said 
Arthur.  "  After  all,  it  may  only  have  been  a  cod- 
fish. At  the  same  time  I'd  much  rather  be  here 
than  down  there." 

"  Boys ! "  shouted  Bruce  to  Tom  and  Phil. 
"  Boys,  you  may  as  well  go  ashore  and  dress. 
We'll  stay  here  a  little  while.  It'll  take  some  time 
to  get  things  ready." 

At  this  Tom  and  Phil  went  back  and  dressed. 

The  fish  which  they  had  last  seen  had  jjroduced 
a  very  solenniizing  effect  on  their  minds.  There 
came  over  them  a  horror  of  that  treacherous 
water.  They  felt  an  aversion  toward  venturing  in 
again,  and  were  sorry  that  they  had  come,  l^ut 
there  was  no  help  for  it.  There  they  were  now, 
though  each  one  felt  that  he  could  not  venture 
back  again  into  the  water  very  readily.  It  might 
Lave  been  a  sturgeon,  or  a  porpoise,  or  even  a 


i:  Wi 


i  I 


I 


n 


ii 


I 


t 


I  r. 


t 


f 


K, 


I  ' 


m 


?Sf  .'.'is 


j   ,       .\: 

:;.i:,^ 

li  Hi;" 

(i  Iprt' 

1  ijij^v^- 

^bI  ■' 

r 

i 

232 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


codfish  ;  but  the  liorror  of  its  presence  was  still 
there,  whatever  it  was.  It  was  some  time  before 
they  could  rally  from  the  panic  which  had  filled 
them  as  they  tumbled  on  board.  And  though  each 
said  but  little  about  it,  and  alluded  to  it  very 
lightly,  yet  each  one  understood  pretty  truly  the 
feelings  of  the  others. 

"  Come,  boys,  hurry  up  !  " 

This  was  the  cry  that  Phil  and  Tom  sent  them 
from  the  beach  They  had  dressed,  and  were 
watching  them  with  impatience. 

''  We're  going  to  wait  till  she  gets  nearer,"  cried 
Bruce.  "  At  high  tide  she  will  be  close  to  the 
beach,  and  we  won't  have  to  drag  the  chain  so 
far." 

"  You'd  better  come  now,"  said  Phil. 

"  No,"  said  Bart ;  "  the  chain  won't  reach  so  far." 

"  All  right,"  said  Tom.  "  We'll  go  up  the  bank 
again  till  you're  ready." 

Saying  this,  the  two  boys  clambered  up  the 
bank,  when  they  rambled  a  little  into  the  woods. 
Arthur  and  Bart  then  found  a  line,  one  end  of  which 
they  fjistened  to  the  anchor.  It  was  their  intention 
to  take  the  line  ashore,  and  let  go  the  whole  chain, 
which  they  hoped  could  be  pulled  to  the  beach  as 
far  as  the  tree.  Before  that  could  be  done,  how- 
ever, it  would  be  necessary  for  the  schooner  to  be 
much  nearer.  The  water  was  already  rising,  and 
there  vet  remained  manv  feet  to  be  covered  before 
the  tide  would  reach  what  they  considered  as  high- 
water  mark. 


'  ',fl 

■4 


A    MISTAKE. 


233 


''  I  don't  believe  it  will  bo  high  tide  for  an  hour 
yet.  It  will  be  an  hour  later  than  wo  calculated," 
said  Bruce.  "  Hang  it,  it's  too  cold  here.  I  wish 
we  had  our  clothes." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  going  to  freeze  any  longer,"  said 
Bart,  jumping  down  into  the  hold.  He  was  absent 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  soon  returned  with  a  quilt 
gracefully  wrapped  around  him  like  a  Roman  toga. 
With  a  laugh,  Arthur  and  l>ruce  jumped  down,  and 
imitated  his  example.  Then  coming  on  deck  again, 
they  joined  Bart,  and  the  boys  professed  to  bo  very 
comfortable,  considering  all  things. 

They  now  took  their  seats  at  the  stern,  and 
looked  out  to  sea,  watching  for  any  signs  of  relief. 
This  occupied  them  for  a  longer  time  than  they 
thought. 

"  I  wonder  what's  become  of  Tom  and  Phil," 
said  Arthur,  suddenly  jumping  up  and  looking 
toward  the  shore. 

The  others  did  the  same. 

Scarcely  had  they  done  so,  when  a  cry  of  dismay 
burst  from  them. 

The  shore  was  at  least  five  hundred  yards  away. 
Phil  and  Tom  were  scrambling  down  the  bank, 
gesticulating  wildly. 

"  What's  all  this  ?  "  cried  Arthur. 

For  a  moment  no  one  answered  ;  but  at  last  Bart 
said,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  agitation, — 

a  We've  mistaken  the  high-water  mark  al- 
together, boys.     It  must    have   been  high  tide 


III' 


1 
'ill 

m 

m 


fill 


234 


THE    B.    O.    W.    C. 


wlion  wo  cnmo  on  Ixjiird.  AVo'vo  been  drifting  off 
ever  siiiL'o." 

"  (Wouldn't  WG  wade  aHJioro  ?  "  said  Artliur. 

Bruco  seized  a  boat-liook,  and  ])lunged  it  over 
the  vosscPs  side  into  ti»e  water. 

"  Couldn't  do  it,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  There  are 
eight  or  nine  feet  of  water." 

"  (\in't  we  swim  ?  " 

'MVill  you  try  it?" 

Eacli  one  looke<l  at  tlie  other,  but  there  was  no 
assent  to  this.  It  was  not  the  mere  distance,  but 
the  other  perils  of  the  deej)  that  deterred  them, 
and  more  than  all,  the  remembrance  of  their  last 
panic. 


,  '? 


Ill  I 


m 


ADRIFT    A(JAIN. 


235 


XVII. 


On  the  hrhy  Deep,  and  on  the  muddy  Shore.  — 
The  Fisherma}i's  Boat.  —  Rea^ypearanve  of  old 
Friends.  —  He  monstrances,  Explanations,  and 
Con/essio7is. 


m 


|EANWHILE, — even  wliile  they  were  speak- 
ing,—  every  moment  drew  them  farther 
away  from  the  shore.  They  saw  Tom  and 
Phil  standing  on  the  beach,  wliich  they  had  reached 
by  this  time,  and  waving  their  hands  with  frantic 
gesticulations.  They  heard  them  shout,  "  Come 
back  !  You're  adrift !  "  and  other  words  not  ni- 
telligible.  They  shouted  back  again  to  encourage 
them,  though  they  themselves  had  but  little  hope. 

"  We  haven't  any  anchor,  boys,"  said  Bart ; 
"  but  let's  put  down  what  we  have.  It  may  hold, 
or,  at  least,  prevent  our  drifting  so  fast." 

"  Well,  there's  nothing  else  to  be  done,"  said 
Bruce  ;  "  so  I  sup})ose  we  may  as  well  try  it.  Come 
along,  boys.     We  must  do  what  we  can." 

Saying  this,  he  led  the  way  to  the  windlass,  and 
the  renniant  of  the  anchor  was  let  go. 

They  waited  a  little  while  to  see  what  effect  this 


236 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


would  have,  but  in  a  few  moments  saw  that  very 
little  waH  produced. 

"  No  go,"  said  Bruce.  "  Suppose  we  give  her 
tiio  whole  chain." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bart.  '^  It  may  hold  her  if  it  is  all 
out." 

''  At  any  rate,"  said  Arthur,  "  it  will  prevent  her 
drifting  somewhat." 

"  Down  she  goes,  then,"  said  Bruce,  as  the  chain 
ran  out.  Soon  it  was  out  at  its  fullest  extent,  and 
they  again  watched  to  see  wliat  effect  would  be 
produced.  By  this  time  they  had  gone  very  much 
farther  from  the  shore,  and  Tom  and  Phil  were  just 
discernible. 

"  It  checks  her  a  little,"  said  Bart,  "  yet  very 
little.  As  to  holding  her,  that  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion." 

"  And  yet  there  can't  be  much  of  a  current 
hero." 

"  I  don't  know  as  to  that.  It  is  difficult  to  tell 
anytl  '  jout  it.  There  are  currents  in  all  sorts 
o^  around  the  bay." 

orhaps,  if  we  let  it  drag  for  a  while,"  said 
Bruce,  "  it  may  catch  somewhere  and  hold.  Tve 
heard  of  such  things." 

"  There's  very  little  chance,  I'm  afraid,"  said 
Bart,  in  a  despondent  tone.  ''  If  we  only  had  half 
a  fluke  I  wouldn't  care ;  but  as  it  is,  we  have  no 
fluke  at  all,  and  that's  why  we  can't  do  any- 
thing." 


UP  SAIL. 


237 


* 


'■e 


If 


Waiting  thus,  and  wcniderinp^  wliat  tlioy  could 
do  next,  tlio  three  boyw  looked  sadly  toward  the 
receding  shore.  The  (juilts  which  they  had  thrown 
around  them  had  been  fastened  at  the  waist  with 
rope-yarns,  and  these,  in  the  exercise  of  letting  go 
the  anchor,  had  fallen  from  their  shoulders,  leaving 
them  exposed  from  their  waists  upward.  They 
looked  ruefully  at  one  another  aa  they  thought  of 
this,  burst  out  laughing,  and  then  drew  the  quilts, 
toga  fashion,  over  their  shoulders  again. 

"  It  was  bad  enough  this  morning,"  said  Artliur, 
at  last,  "  but  it  was  a  joke  to  this.  What  can  we 
do  for  something  to  eat  ?  " 

"  There's  not  a  morsel  on  board." 

"  The  last  mouthful  of  bread  we  ate  before  we 
waded  ashore." 

"  If  we  only  had  a  fish-hook  we  might  hope  to 
catch  something." 

"  Fish-hook !  Why,  man,  we  haven't  any  kind 
of  bait." 

"  Well,  all  we've  got  to  do  is  to  hope  f<jr  some 
one  to  pick  us  up." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  No,"  said  Bart.  "  I,  for  one,  am 
not  going  to  sit  down  and  float  away,  goodness 
knows  where.  I  move  that  we  up  sail  and  go 
somewhere. " 

"  Up  sail !  " 

"  Of  course.     Why  not  ?  " 

"  But  can  we  —  can  you  —  ?  " 

"  0,  we   can  scrape  along.     I'd  rather  have  a 


III 


V. 


238 


THE   13.    0.    \V.    C. 


I  i 


S   ■!    I 


small  accident  than  drift  off  in  this  stylo,  doing 
nothing.  You  all  understand  my  knowhvlge  of 
sailing,  for  you've  had  a  fair  specimen  of  it,  and  if 
you're  willing  ^^  risk  my  steering  again,  I'm  ready 
to  take  hold  ;  u  not,  then  you  or  Bruce  take  hold, 
and  I'll  keep  at  the  sails.  It  don't  make  any  dif- 
ference, though,  which  of  us  is  captain,  for  I  sup- 
pose one  knows  just  as  nmcli  as  another.  But,  at 
any  rate,  I'm  bound  to  have  the  sails  up." 

"  So  am  I,"  cried  Bruce,  "  whatever  happens." 

"  And  I  too  !  "  cried  Arthur. 

"  Bart,  you  be  captain,  old  fellow.  We  won't 
take  your  office  from  you.  You've  had  more  ex- 
perience than  we  have  had,  at  any  rate,  for  you've 
steered  her  already.  But  we  must  get  up  the 
piece  of  an  anchor  first." 

"  Of  course  we  must,  and  the  sooner  the 
better." 

Upon  this  they  all  went  to  work  at  the  wind- 
lass. It  was  hard  work,  but  after  some  time  it  was 
successfully  accomplished.  By  this  time  they  had 
drifted  out  several  miles,  and  the  beach  still  lay 
before  them,  but  it  was  faint  in  the  distance.  The 
headland  was  then  somewhat  toward  the  right^ 
and  this  served  as  an  excellent  guide.  The  ves- 
sel's head  was  still  tun?ed  toward  the  shore,  in  the 
way  in  which  she  had  drifted  out. 

''  My  idea,"  said  Bart,  "  is,  that  we  sail  straight 
back  again." 

"  It's   a   pity  we   hadn't   the   other   fellows  on 


r 


LAND    IN   SIGHT. 


239 


I 


board,"  said  Bruce,  "  for  wo  miglit  try  some  place 
wlicro  thoro  might  be  houses." 

''  Well,  in  that  case,  I'd  give  you  the  helm,"  said 
Bart.  "  Art  long  as  I'm  here,  I  will  only  go  where 
I  know  my  ground.  I  don't  care  to  try  the  Five 
Islands  again,  nor  would  I  like  to  turn  the  schooner. 
It's  lucky  for  us  tiiat  she's  heading  in  shore.  So 
come,  boys,  let's  hurry  up  witli  the  sails,  or  else 
she  may  turn  off  in  some  other  direction ;  and  then 
how  we  can  get  her  round  again,  will  be  more  than 
I  can  say." 

Hoisting  the  sails  was  arduous  work,  but  they 
succeeded.  The  wind  had  moderated,  and  the  ves- 
sel glided  slowly  back  toward  the  beach.  Bart 
was  so  anxious  to  rejoin  Tom  and  Phil,  that  he  did 
not  venture  to  try  any  exj)eriments  in  sailing,  but 
simply  kept  the  schooner's  head  toward  tlie  place 
where  he  supposed  they  might  be  standing.  The 
wind  was  favorable,  the  vessel  drew  nearer  and 
nearer,  and  at  last  the  beach  again  became  dis- 
tinctly visible. 

A  shout  of  joy  escaped  them  as  they  recognized 
Phil  and  Tom  again. 

"  I  wonder  how  they  felt  when  they  saw  us 
drifting,"  said  Bruce. 

"  They  must  have  given  us  up  for  lost." 

"  I  wonder  whether  they  expected  that  we  would 
raise  the  sails." 

"  I  don't  believe  they  thought  of  tliat." 

"  That's   not    surprising,   after   all  ;    especially 


T 


lir 


tit 


i-!i   ;  ; 


Bs 


1  \i 


240 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


as  we  didn't  think  of  it  ourselves  till  the  last 
moment." 

"  That's  odd,  too.  It  seems  now  as  though 
it  ought  to  have  been  tlic  very  first  thing  to 
th'nk  of." 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  we  had  such  a  tough  time 
this  morning  off  that  headland,"  said  Bart,  pointing 
to  the  dark  rocks  which  Avere  full  before  them  on 
their  right,  "  that  it's  no  wonder  if  we  gave  up  all 
ideas  of  ever  hoisting  sail  again.  However,  it's 
all  right.     And  now  what  ought  we  to  do  ?" 

"  There's  only  one  thing  that  we  can  do." 

"  What's  that  ?  " 

"  What  ?  Why,  what  else  can  we  do  but  run 
ashore,  just  as  we  did  before." 

"  I  suppose  we  can't  do  anything  else ;  but  it's 
a  pity,  too.  Still  we  must  take  Tom  and  Phil. 
Though,  if  they  were  on  board,  we  could  at  least 
find  a  better  part  of  the  coast.  This  is  so  remote, 
and  I  haven't  seen  any  houses  near  the  place 
at  all." 

Bad  as  it  was,  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  and  so 
Bart  had  to  keep  the  schooner  straight  on.  On 
account  of  the  currents,  however,  and  the  loss  of 
v/ay,  the  Antelope  could  not  come  within  a  mile 
of  her  former  landing-place.  Phil  and  Tom  saw 
this,  and  ran  down  the  beach,  carrying  the  bundles ; 
and  just  as  they  came  opposite  to  their  companions, 
the  Antelope  grounded  about  a  hundred  feet  from 
the  beach.     Without  waiting  another  instant,  Phil 


NEW  PLANS. 


241 


and  Tom  threw  off  their  clothes,  and  waded  out. 
They  got  on  board  without  any  adventures,  and 
celebrated  the  restoration  of  their  companions  by 
dancing  like  wikl  creatures  about  the  deck.  Long 
explanations  followed  from  both  sides,  after  which 
they  discussed  their  future  prospects. 

"  Hallo  ! "  said  Arthur,  as  the  schooner  sank  a 
little  on  one  side.  "  ►'^lie's  aground.  No  farther 
drifting  till  next  tide.  And  now  what  can  we  do, 
or  where  can  we  fasten  her  ?  " 

"  We'll  have  to  try  and  use  the  chain  and  line,  as 
we  did  before." 

"  I  wonder  if  we  are  not  too  far  out." 

"  No  ;  I  think  not,"  said  Phil. 

"  There's  a  good  stump  up  there  to  fasten  a  line 
to,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  dare  say  we  can  get  a  line  up.  If  not,  we 
can  bury  the  anchor  in  the  mud,  and  put  stones 
over  it." 

"  And  what  can  we  do  about  exploring  the 
country  ?  " 

"  Some  of  us  must  stay  by  the  schooner  to 
attend  to  the  fastenings." 

"  Two  can  stay,  and  three  go." 

"  No,  three  had  better  stay,  and  two  go.  It's 
too  hard  work." 

"  Pooh  !  two  will  be  enough.  But  who  will 
they  be  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  must  toss  up  for  it.  That's  the  only 
16 


242 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


plan.     "Wo  must  do  it  at  once.     There's  no  time  to 


los 


so 


V 


"  Suppose,  before  we  do  {inytliinf^  more,"  said 
Bart,  "  that  we  all  slij)  asliore  and  put  our  clothes 
on.  For  my  part,  I'm  cliilly  ;  and  thoui>;h  I  could 
easily  get  some  more  quilts,  yet  it  seems  unneces- 
sary to  do  so  when  I  have  my  own  clothes  so  near. 
Besides,  here  are  Phil  and  Tom,  whose  teeth  are 
already  chattering-." 

A  loud  laugh  followed  ;  after  which  they  all 
sprang,  one  after  the  other,  into  the  water,  and 
hurried  to  the  shore.  There  they  dressed  them- 
selves ;  and  as  the  vessel  was  fairly  aground,  with 
the  tide  rapidly  going  out  past  her,  they  threw 
themselves  on  the  beach,  and  prepared  to  decide 
on  the  ones  that  would  stay  behind. 

^'  There  !  "  cried  Phil,  suddenly  springing  to  his 
feet.     "  I  knew  it  was  !  " 

"  What  ?  what  ?  "  exclaimed  all  the  others. 

"  A  sail  !  —  out  there  by  the  headland  I  " 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Bart.  "  Phil,  you've  got  a  good 
pair  of  eyes  in  your  head." 

"  It's  a  sail-boat,"  said  Bruce. 

"  And  heading  this  way,"  said  Bart. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cried  Tom.  "  They've  come  for  us 
at  last." 

"  Come,  now,  boys,"  said  Arthur,  "don't  let  us 
get  excited  again.     T  tell  you  that  boat  is   some 


Tl 


lose  on 


fisherman,  and   it  is   passing  by  here. 

board  won't  see  us,  and  there's  no  use  doing  any- 


SIGNALLING    A    BOAT. 


243 


US 

us 

me 

on 


thing;.  Let's  sit  down  and  finisli  tlio  toss-up,  and 
send  Phil  to  the  top  of  tlie  bank  to  wateh,  and 
make  wliat  sip^nals  he  can." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it!''  cried  Bart ;  and  springing  for- 
ward, lie  daslied  into  tlie  water  toward  the  scliooner 
with  liis  clothes  on.  The  water  had  fallen  so  far, 
however,  that  he  did  not  g-et  wet  much  above  his 
knees.  Clambering  on  board,  he  lowered  the  flag 
of  the '^  B.  0.  W.  (\,"--  which  had  waved  there 
through  all  their  vicissit'des,  —  and  tearing  off 
his  red  flannel  H.iirt,  he  lastened  it  close  beneath 
the  flag.  Then  he  p'  led  it  up  ;  and  then  kept 
h)wering  and  hoistin^-,  with  the  utmost  ra[)idity, 
the  extraordinary  signal.  Nor  was  this  all.  He 
had  not  yet  lost  confidence  in  his  pistol,  in  spite 
of  its  signal  failure  in  the  case  of  the  schooner 
some  time  before,  but  drew  it  forth  now  with  a 
certain  solemn  decision.  By  this  time  all  the 
others  had  come  on  board,  and  were  waving  all 
sorts  of  quilts  and  blankets  from  the  stern.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this  agitation  Bart  fired  his  pistol. 
The  smart  pop  !  rang  out  bravely  enough  ;  but  as 
the  sail-boat  was  at  least  three  miles  away,  it  can- 
not be  said  to  have  produced  any  very  extraor- 
dinary result.  Bart,  however,  was  satisfied.  He 
had  already  given  charge  of  the  ''  ensign  "  to  Tom, 
and,  standing  on  the  starboard  (piarter,  he  fired 
again.  After  this  he  rested  for  a  while,  and  waited 
for  the  boat  to  come  nearer. 

Nearer  she  was  certainly  coming,  in  spite  of  the 


; !  '  I 


'f 


lii: 


til 
Hi 
il! 


244 


THE  B.   0.   W.   C. 


scepticism  of  Arthur.  To  guard  against  the  pain 
of  disappointment,  Arthur  was  trying,  with  all  his 
might,  not  to  hope,  and  to  prevent  any  of  the  others 
from  hoping.  Yet  he  could  not  help  being  as  san- 
guine as  the  others,  in  spite  of  his  efforts. 

"  Boys,"  he  cried,  "  be  careful  now.  Remember 
this  boat  don't  see  us,  and  don't  intend  to.  She's 
a  fishing-boat,  out  after  sturgeon.  Hhe's  sailing 
straight  across,  past  us,  to —  Hurrah  !  here  she 
comes  straight  down  to  us." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Hurrah  !  She  sees  us  !  Up  and 
down  with  the  flag,  Tom  !  Fire  away,  Bart  ! 
Bring  up  that  fog-horn,  somebody,  and  blow  till 
you  burst.  I'll  content  myself  with  a  sociable 
yell." 

Whereupon  a  yell,  so  loud,  so  harsh,  so  penetrat- 
ing, burst  forth  from  Bruce,  that  it  seemed  to 
penetrate  even  to  the  boat.  White  signals  cer- 
tainly were  waving  from  those  on  board,  and  a  tall 
figure  in  black  stood  upright  in  the  bows  waving 
a  hat. 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  cried  Bart,  as  he  fired  his  pistol 
again,  and  danced  joyously  about.  "  And  you  call 
that  a  fishing-boat,  do  you,  Arthur  ?  So  you  think 
the  fishermen  here  go  out  to  throw  their  nets, 
dressed  in  black  broadcloth  and  silk  hats,  do  you  ? 
Well,  I  call  that  good.  A  fisherman  !  Who  would 
think  of  Mr.  Long  being  taken  for  a  fisherman  1 " 

All  was  now  the  wildest  joy.  There  was  no 
more  doubt,  and  no  longer  any  mistakes.     The 


■ilH' 


JOYFUL    REUNION. 


245 


no 
Hie 


boat  saw  them,  and  had  returned  answer  to  their 
signals.  It  was  bearing  swiftly  down  toward 
them.  It  was  filled  with  peoi)le.  Who  were 
they  all  ? 

The  question  was  soon  answered.  Nearer  came 
the  boat,  and  nearer,  and  still  nearer.  At  last  it 
came  close  up,  and  grounded  under  the  vessel's 
quarter.  Mr.  Long  was  first  on  board,  wringing 
all  the  boys'  hands,  and  pretending  to  scold  tliem. 
After  him  came  Mr.  ^Simmons,  then  Bogud,  then 
Billymack,  then  the  two  captains.  Hearty  was 
the  greeting,  and  deep  and  fervent  the  joy,  at 
finding  that  all  had  turned  out  so  well.  The 
"  B.  0.  W.  C."  had  to  tell  all  about  their  adventures. 
They  concealed  nothing  whatever.  Bart  related, 
with  the  utmost  frankness,  the  story  of  his  naviga- 
tion experiments,  interrupted  by  the  laughter  of 
the  other  boys,  and  the  criticisms  of  Captain  Cor- 
bet, who  would  insist  on  explaining  what  ought  to 
have  been  done.  Then  followed  the  story  of  the 
"  shovel-mouth  shark,"  which  produced  an  im- 
mense sensation.  Captain  Corbet  shook  his  head 
solemnly  at  the  sight  of  the  jaws,  which  Phil  had 
run  ashore  to  get.  But  their  last  adventure,  when 
they  were  drifted  away  from  their  clothes,  waa 
considered  about  the  most  singular  of  all. 

"  But  how  did  you  manage  to  find  us  ?  "  asked 
Bart,  as  he  ended  his  story. 

Mr.  Long  related  all  about  his  first  discovery  of 
their  accident  up  to  the  time  that  he  had  left  with 
his  party  for  the  ''  pint." 


.1^ 


i 


.11 


I'iun 


ill 


IP 

m 

Iff:: 


n 


■  Ui-- 


'"lis 


rim 


m 


i;''!  mil 


ill-: 


1    <!' 


mv 


24G 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


''  Wlion  wc  ^ot  there,"  coiitimied  lie,  "  we  saw  a 
schooner  nailing,  and  made  it  out  with  the  glass  to 
be  the  Antelope.  We  watched  you  as  you  sailed 
toward  the  Five  Islands.  You  must  have  been  on 
your  second  tack  then.  We  could  not  imagine 
where  you  were  going.  Captain  Corbet  thought 
you  didn't  know  your  way.  I  thought  you  were 
letting  the  vessel  go  wherever  the  wind  might  take 
you.     As  it  happens,  I  was  not  very  far  wrong. 

"  At  last  we  saw  you  turn,  and  the  perfoi'manco 
of  the  schooner  showed  us  all  very  plainly  that  you 
couldn't  sail  her.  It  filled  us  with  the  deepest 
anxiety.  We  could  have  got  a  boat,  but  your 
course  was  so  strange,  that  we  delayed  until  we 
could  see  where  you  might  finally  bring  up.  We 
didn't  expect  any  accident  exactly,  but  hoped  that 
you  would  come  nearer.  At  last  you  sailed  so 
close  to  that  headland  that  we  thought  you  were 
lost.  Immediately  afterward  you  passed  behind 
it  from  sight.  We  waited  some  time  to  see  if  you 
would  reappear,  but  you  did  not.  So  we  at  once 
put  off  in  the  boat  which  belonged  to  a  fisherman 
who  lived  near,  and  came  here  as  fast  as  possible. 
The  last  time  that  you  drifted  off  we  saw  you ;  but 
perhaps  you  were  too  excited  to  see  us  —  or  per- 
haps we  were  too  far  off  to  be  seen  very  easily. 

"  And  now,"  concluded  Mr.  Long,  "  I've  found 
you  again,  and  it's  my  fixed  determination  not  to 
let  any  of  you  go  out  of  my  sight.  You're  all  a  set 
of  Jonahs.  The  only  comfort  is,  that  you  come  out 
all  right  at  last." 


'l-il 


NOBODY   TO    BLAME. 


247 


i  <; 


"  I'm  sure.  INfr.  Long;^"  romonstnitcd  Burl,  "  you 
ouglitii't  to  blanui  us.  It  wasn't  onr  i'aiilt.  I'd 
mucli  rather  not  drift  away  if  I  could  liclj)  it.  1 
don't  enjoy  g"oing  al)()ut  in  the  fog,  or  aniong  tliesc 
tides.  I'm  sure  Bruce  don't.  Neither  does  Ar- 
thur, nor  Tom,  nor  Phil." 

"Blame  you?  Of  course  I  don't  blame  you," 
said  Mr.  Long.  "  ITow  can  I?  It  wasn't  your 
fault,  of  course.  I  only  mean  that  your  fortunes 
have  been  very  peculiar.  1  don't  know  but,  if  I 
believed  in  omens.  I'd  say  that  your  black  Hag  up 
there  has  brought  us  all  this  run  of  bad  luck. 
But  come,  we've  been  thoughtful  about  you.  We 
knew  you'd  be  starving,  and  so  we  brought  along 
with  us  something  for  you  to  eat." 

"  Starving  !  ]\Ir.  Long,  we're  in  that  condition 
that  we  could  eat  horseshoes." 

With  a  good-natured  laugh,  Mr.  Long  turned 
away,  and  jumping  into  the  boat,  handed  up  the 
eatables  that  he  had  bruuu-ht  for  them. 


i 


,.w 


lii 


248 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


XVIII. 

Wanderings  ahout  the  Beaeli.  —  Science  and  Sport. 
—  Back  Home.  —  Frujldfid  Tale  of  Poison.  — 
A  Visit  to  the  Afflicted. 

^HE  oatiiblcs  which  Mr.  Long  had  brought 
with  him  were  not  such  as  would  liave  boen 
welcome  to  a  fastidious  taste  or  a  dainty  ap- 
petite ;  but  to  these  long-fasting,  hard-working,  and 
hall-starving,  and  altogether  ravenous  boys,  any- 
thing that  was  eatable  was  precious.  The  brown 
ship-bread  and  salt  pork,  which  ]\Ir.  Long  handed 
up  to  them,  were  seized  as  eagerly  as  if  they  had 
been  roast  beef  and  plum  pudding,  and  soon  dis- 
posed of.  A  knife  drawn  from  Phil's  belt  served 
very  quickly  to  cut  the  pork  into  slices,  after 
which  tlie  pork  and  the  brown  biscuit  vanished. 
"  What  a  pity,"  said  Mr.  Long,  as  he  looked 
around,  "  that  we  didn't  get  here  an  hour  earlier  I 
The  water's  going  out  fast;  the  schooner  is 
aground,  and  we'll  have  to  wait  till  the  next  tide 
before  we  can  start  for  the  cove." 

"  It's  a  pity  that  we  can't  do  something  while 
waiting,  so  as  not  to  throw  our  time  away,"  said 
Mr.  Simmons. 


mmmm 


MR.    LONG    ADVISES. 


249 


11 


"  There  don't  seem  to  be  much  prospect  of  doing 
anytliinp;  just  liere,  but  we  can  try." 

''  Nor  do  I  see  that  there  arc  any  people  bving 
about  here." 

"No:  Ca])tain  Corbet  told  me  there  were  no  in- 
habitants within  ei^ht  miles." 

"  These  bunks  are  not  very  invitinj^;  to  a  min- 
eralogist—  are  they?"  said  Mr.  Simmons,  with  a 
sigh,  as  he  looked  along  the  beach. 

"  No  ;  we'll  have  to  lay  out  our  strength  on  the 
mud  flats.  Perliaps  we  may  find  some  interesting 
footprints  at  low  tide." 

"  Well,  we  may  as  well  go  ashore  now,  T  sup- 
pose. It's  rather  monotonous  standing  here  on  an 
inclined  plane,  with  the  vessel  aground  on  her  side. 
I  think  I'll  climb  the  bank,  and  take  a  general  view 
of  the  country." 

''  Very  well ;  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  INIr.  Long. 
"  And  now,  boys,"  he  continued,  "  remember  this  : 
don't  go  out  of  sight.  This  beach  is  long,  and  it 
will  soon  be  wide,  for  the  tide  will  leave  it  all  un- 
covered. This  will  give  space  enough  for  even 
Bucli  extensive  and  wide-spreading  desires  as 
yours.  Now,  don't  go  off  the  beach  or  the  flats. 
Don't  go  up  in  the  woods,  and  get  lost ;  don't  go 
into  the  water,  and  get  drowned ;  don't  blow  your- 
selves up  with  that  pistol ;  don't  get  into  any  more 
fights  with  *  shovel-mouth  sharks,'  or,  if  you  do, 
be  sure  to  call  me  ;  don't  get  into  air-holes  if 
you  can  help  it.     As  to  going  adrift  again,  I  don't 


i  (ill 


250 


THE   B.    O.    V/.    C. 


SCO  how  you  can  m!\niir»;o  tliat,  as  tlicro  is  nothing 
afloat  just  yet ;  \m\,  dear  l)(»ys,  if  you  can  possibly 
help  it,  don't  do  it.  Try  and  see  if  you  can't  man- 
age to  ke(!p  your  clothes  on.  It's  niucii  hctter,  as 
a  general  tiling,  to  do  so." 

All  this  the  hoys  greeted  with  loud  laughter; 
after  which  tiiey  s})rang  over  the  vessel's  side,  and 
Hcattered  th(3niselves  along  the  heach. 

Captain  Corbet  stood  looking  after  them,  with 
a  beaming  smile  irradiating  his  venerable  counte- 
nance. 

"  Yes,"  h(^  ejaculated,  standing  near  Mr.  Long. 
"Yes,  sir;  1  alius  knowed  it,  an'  1  alius  said  it, 
that  them  there  boys  would  turn  up  all  right. 
Lor'  bless  your  heart,  you  can't  wreck  'em,  an' 
you  can't  drown  'em.  The  iish  doesn't  swim  that 
can  tetch  'em.  They're  alius  bound  to  turn  up  all 
straight.  That's  the  confidin'  belief  that  reigned 
in  my  boosom,  an'  sustained  me  when  we  watched 
'em  in  the  Antelope,  up  there  at  the  pint.  As  to 
that  there  anchor,  ef  it  had  been  a  bran  new  one, 
it  wovdd  have  been  broken  off  jest  the  same,  for 
that  there  schooner  was  bound  to  lie  on  it  an' 
crack  it,  an'  them  there  boys  was  bound  to  have 
that  there  adventoor." 

Mr.  Long  now  landed  with  ^fr.  Simmons,  and 
went  up  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  where  they  sat 
down  for  some  time,  gazing  upon  the  wide-spread 
scenery  of  the  Basin  of  Minas.  After  this  they 
descended  and  walked  about  the  beach.     At  first, 


€ 
Bi 

ii 

ii,'.  . 

KOOTPUINTS   ON   TFIK   SAND. 


251 


they  liopod  t(^  obtain  some  s1m3I1s;  but  notliinji;  of 
the  kind  I'onM  be  found.  In  fact,  tlicro  wore 
scarcoly  any  peltblos;  indeed,  nono  but  the  most 
common  kind.  For  all  the  waters  of  tlie  Hay  of 
Fundy  and  its  adjncent  harbors  are  singularly  bare 
of  the  more  delicati;  shell-lish.  Lobsters  abound, 
and  so  do  clams  ;  so  also  do  many  kinds  of  seaweed  ; 
but  as  for  the  more  excjuisite  forms  of  sea  life,  such 
as  we  love  to  put  in  the  a(piarium,  tlu^y  nnist  be 
sought  for  elsewhere.  Here  are  swiit  currents, 
fierce  ra])ids,  strong-  tides,  vast  mud  flats  or  sand 
flats,  rivers  that  en<pty  and  fill  themselves  with 
every  ebb  and  floo<l ;  and  it  is  not  amid  such 
scenes  that  we  may  look  for  those  graceful,  yet 
fragile  creatures,  whose  abode  is  amid  stiller 
scenes. 

As  the  tide  went  down,  Messrs.  Simmons  and 
Long  walked  over  the  flats,  hoping  to  find  some- 
thing which  would  rewfird  their  trouble.  From 
the  surface  of  the  sea  bottom  thus  uncovered,  many 
interesting  things  might  be  obtained.  On  thijse 
mud  flats  are  found  many  marks,  which  are  the 
counterparts  of  others  that  have  been  turned  into 
stone,  and  buried  in  the  adjacent  earth.  Here 
may  be  seen  the  patter  of  rain-drops,  and  the  foot- 
prints of  birds  or  beasts  made  on  the  very  day  of 


th 


leir  discovery,  while  among-   the    stmta   o 


th 


)f  tl 


le 


neighboring  siiore  there  may  lie  traces  of  a 
similar  kind  made  many  ages  ago,  which  thus  have 
been  graven  on  the  rock,  and  treasured  up  for  our 
eves. 


i.L 


.'M 


i  > 


m 


i( 


m 


252 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


The  boys  dispersed  tborasclves  everywhere,  ex 
tending^  their  wanderings  as  tlie  tide  left  more  and 
more  of  the  shore  exposed.  Far  down  they  could 
see  the  weirs,  placed  there  by  the  fishermen,  and 
they  waited  long  for  these  to  become  uncovered, 
so  that  they  might  visit  them,  and  inspect  their 
contents.  But  it  grew  later  and  later,  and  finally 
it  became  too  dark  to  do  anything.  Then  the 
voice  of  Mr.  Long  was  heard  summoning  them  to 
the  shore. 

Thus  the  remainder  of  the  day  passed  without 
anything  to  reward  them,  except  the  general  ex- 
citement which  had  been  produced  among  them. 
It  would  be  many  hours  yet  before  tliey  could  get 
afloat,  and  they  amused  themselves  by  making  fires 
at  the  foot  of  the  bank.  A  modest  and  frugal  re- 
past of  brown  bi^^cuit  and  pork,  washed  down  with 
cold  water,  concluded  the  day.  For  some  time 
longer  they  sat  round  the  fire,  until,  at  last,  ex- 
cessive weariness  overcame  them.  Then  tliey 
went  on  l)oard  the  schooner,  and  retired  to  bed. 

Some  time  after  midnight  the  Antelope  was 
afloat  again.  None  of  her  passengers  waked.  She 
moved  away  from  the  shore  without  accident. 
Morning  came,  and  she  had  not  yet  reached  her 
destination.  The  wind  had  been  unfavorable,  and 
she  had  lost  that  tide.  As  she  could  not  anchor, 
Captain  Corbet  had  run  her  asliore.  They  had  to 
wait  patiently,  and  get  off  at  midday,  with  the 
rising  tide ;  after  which  they  resumed  their  voy- 


THE   CLAMS   AGAIN. 


253 


age,  and  in  ilirce  hours  more  they  were  iu  Cap- 
tain Pratt's  house. 

Of  the  five  boys  who  had  been  left  behind,  one 
was  not  visible,  and  the  other  four  met  them  with 
pale,  woe-begone  faces.  They  showed  no  joy  at 
seeing  the  return  of  the  wanderers ;  no  curiosity 
to  learn  what  they  had  been  doing ;  and  even  the 
sight  of  the  jaw  of  the  "  shovel-mouth  shark  "  pro- 
duced upon  them  no  effect  whatever. 

It  was  seen  that  something  had  happened,  and 
the  unhappy  four  were  closely  cross-cjuestioned. 
At  first  they  refused  to  answer.  At  last,  on  be- 
ing jDressed,  they  confessed  that  they  had  all  been 
poisoned. 

"  Poisoned  I  "  cried  Bart,  in  horror.  "  How  was 
that?" 

"  Clams!  11^^  said  Jiggins. 

"  Yes,  clams  !  "  said  all  the  others. 

"  Clams  ?  "  cried  Bart.  ''  What  rubbish  1  How 
could  clams  poison  you  !     Pooh  1 " 

''  Ah,  you  don't  know,"  said  Jiggins.  "  You  ask 
Mrs.  Pratt.  Haven't  you  heard  the  old  saying," 
he  continued,  with  an  air  of  peculiar  solemnity; 
*'  the  old  saying,  that  they  have  about  these 
shores : — 

"  *  In  the  months  without  the  "II," 
Clams  an  1  oysters  poison  are'?" 

"  Never  hear  ^  "t,"  said  Bart ;  ''  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve it.    Pve  eaten  lots  of  oysters  in  May  myself" 
Jiggins  shook  his  head. 


'  ■ 

1  ! 

1* 

' 


It?'  r,  ■  ff< 

Ma 


Mm 


2rA 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


"Never  do  it  ao;;iin/'  said  lie. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  it  was  clams  tliat  up- 
set you  so  ?  " 

"  (lams,  and  C'lan»s  alone,"  said  Jiggins.  "  We 
owe  our  lives  to  Mrs.  Pratt.  She's  been  a  mother 
to  us." 

"  Why  !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You  see  we  had  a  stew.  Fat  ate  them  raw, 
and  I'ell  down  in  hori'ible  agonies.  The  torments 
which  he  suifered  were  so  excruciating  that  he 
had  to  be  carried  to  the  house,  and  went  nearly 
mad  with  ])ain.  Mrs.  Pratt  attended  him,  and  as 
soon  as  he  was  easier  she  took  us  in  hand.  We 
had  eaten  after  Pat,  and  our  pains  had  not  yet  be- 
gun. Mrs.  Pratt  got  out  all  her  medicines,  and 
tried  them  on  us  cme  after  the  other." 

"  What !  not  all !  not  all  her  medicines  !  " 

"  Yes,  all!  "  said  Jiggins,  in  a  dismal  voice.  "  I 
can't  tell  you  all  that  we  took  ;  but  first  there  was 
opodeldoc,  then  ginger,  then  Crabb's  cordial,  then 
magnesia,  then  paregoric,  then  blue  pills,  then  a 
mustard  j)laster,  after  which  there  was  rum  and 
onions,  brimstone  and   molasses  —  " 

"Stop,  stop!"  cried  Bart.  "What's  all  that? 
You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  took  all  that?" 

"  Yes,  all !  "  ejaculated  Jiggins,  his  face  grow- 
ing at  once  longer  and  paler  at  the  recollection  of 
his  sorrows. 

"  And  you're  alive  yet  —  all  of  you  ?  Then  you 
need  never  be  afraid  of  poisons.     Yes,  my  poor 


li'  ^ 


il 


POISON  KD. 


255 


Jiggins,  yoii  ]i!(V(^  been  j)()isonc(l  ;  that's  a  fact, 
tlioiigli  not  hy  clams.'' 

Mr.  Long,  who  was  present,  had  listeiiod  to  all 
this  in  consternation. 

"  And  Where's  I'at  ?  "  lie  asked.  That  yonn^ 
gentleman's  name  was  Michael,  but  everybody 
called  him  l*at,  and  so  did  !Mr.  Long.  "  And 
Where's   I*at  ?  " 

"  In  bed  yet,  sir." 

"  Poor  Pat !     Tlas  he  been  dosed,  too  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  but  ho  was  taken  worse  than  any  of 
us ;  "  and  with  this  Jiggins  went  on  to  tidl  all 
about  Pat  and  the  raw  clams. 


'^  Dear,    dear,    dear  !  ''    cried    ^Fr.    Long. 


a 


He 


must  have  eaten  a  bushel,  and  all  raw.  Dear, 
dear,  dear  !  AVhat  did  he  think  he  was  made 
of?  0,  how  is  it  ])ossible  for  me  to  keoj)  you 
all  out  of  mischief?  I  go  after  one  half  of  you 
who  are  in  peril,  and  come  back  to  find  the  rest 
of  you  half  poisoned.  ])ut  })oor  Pat  —  where  is 
he  ?  I  must  see  him,  for  we  have  to  start  for  home 
to-night." 

"  Pll  show  you,  sir,"  said  Jiggins;  and  he  took 
liim  to  the  room  where  Pat  was.  He  was  lying  in 
bed,  looking  pale  and  exhausted.  He  greeted  Mr. 
Long  with  a  faint  smile,  and  the  kind-hearted 
teacher  did  his  utmost  to  soothe  the  atllicted  boy. 


256 


THE   B.    0.   W.   C. 


XIX. 


^  i 


Complaints  of  a  disappointed  Savant.  —  The  hum- 
ble Confession  of  Pat.  —  A  buried,  Treasure,  and 
a  ijreat  Seareh  after  it  by  Torehlitjld. 


li 


t 


AT,"  said  Mr.  Long,  kindly,  "  do  you  think 
you  will  1)0  iiblo  to  start  to-night?" 
'^  To-night,  sir?"  said  Pat,  dolefully. 

"Yes,  the  recess  is  over.  Our  time  is  up,  and 
we  must  all  be  back  to-morrow.  We  ought  to  have 
been  there  Saturday  night.  Do  you  think  you  can 
come  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I'll  have  to,  sir." 

"  If  you're  too  weak,  or  if  it  pains  you  to  walk, 
we  can  carry  you  down,  you  know." 

"  AVliat  time  are  ye  afther  lavin'  at,  sir?" 

"  About  one  o'clock." 

"  0,  thin,  surely  I'll  be  betther  by  that  time," 
said  Pat.  "  I'll  get  a  wink  of  sleej),  and  wake  up 
meself  again." 

"  Do  so,  Pat.  Is  there  anything  I  ctndd  get 
you  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  thank  ye  kindly.  I  don't  know  of  any- 
thing." 


;  r? 


PARENTAL    AFFECTION. 


257 


Yes,  tlioy  had  to  go  back,  for  tlicM'r  time  was  np ; 
yet  ^Ir.  Long  was  in  despair,  not  knowing  what  to 
do  about  the  minerals.  He  was  confident  that  tliey 
were  somewhere  —  but  where  ?  No  one  knew,  and 
he  couhJn't  imagine. 

''  It's  too  bad,"  lie  cried,  as  his  indignation  grew 
irrepressible.  "  It's  too  bad.  Our  expedition  has 
been  ill  organized.  I  don't  blame  anybody,  but 
we've  certainly  had  very  bad  luck.  With  only  a 
week  we  have  wasted  or  lost  every  day  but  one. 
Last  jMonday  we  were  kept  all  day  and  all  night  at 
the  wharf." 

''  Wal,  Mr.  Long,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  "  I  s'pose 
vou're  kind  o'  blamin'  me  ;  but  what  could  I  do? 
Ef  a  man  has  a  babby,  mustn't  he  nuss  it?" 

"  No,  he  musn't,"  said  Mr.  Long ;  'Mie  must  make 
his  wife  attend  to  household  matters,  and  keep  his 
engagements." 

Ctiptain  Corbet  stared  with  a  look  of  horror  and 
astonishment  at  Mr.  Long. 

"  Wal,  sir,"  he  said,  with  modest  firmness,  "  in 
my  humble  opinion,  sir,  a  babby  is  a  babby,  an' 
flesh  an'  l)lood  is  flesh  an'  blood;  an'  I  don't  care 
who  says  they  ain't.  Ef  you'd  see  that  there  bab- 
by, sir,"  he  continued,  warming  up  in  a  glow  of 
fond  parental  feeling,  —  "  ef  you'd  a-seen  that  there 
babby,  as  I've  seen  him,  —  a  crowin',  an'  a  pullin' 
of  my  har,  an'  a  sayin',  Ga-ga-ga,  —  you'd  —  " 

"  Mr.  Simmons,"  said  Mr.  Long,  suddenly,  '■'•  have 
you  hunted  for  the  stones?"  * 

17 


Ml 


=  V!  1 


I  ,1  f  fflf  1 1 


i.i  ii 


( 

1 

-ll 

:-  .-  - 

r 

ft 

1    ^  ')•       :■    1 

-    i..-. 

258 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


"  O,  yes,  cvorywliorc." 

"And  (lid  you  find  nothing?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  There  it  is,"  resumed  Mr.  Long.  "  A  wliole 
week  worse  than  lost.  We  lost  Monday.  We 
started  Tuesday,  and  sailed  nearly  all  day.  We 
hud  a])ont  two  hours'  Avork,  and  then  the  boat 
went  adrift.  All  Wednesday  we  were  wandering 
about  the  bay.  Thursday  came,  and  we  didn't 
find  the  boys  till  the  day  Avas  well  gone,  and  then 
stopping  at  O'llaflerty's  and  coming  here  took  up 
the  remainder  of  the  time." 

"  Well,  we  had  Friday  to  ourselves,"  said  Mr. 
Sinnnons,  Avith  a  pleasant  smile.  He  Avas  an  amia- 
ble man,  and  always  looked  on  the  bright  side  of 
things. 

"  Yes,  Ave  had,"  said  Mr.  Long,  "  but  unfortu- 
nately Ave  accomplished  nothing.  We  had  a  long 
journey,  and  came  back  empty-handed." 

"  At  any  rate,  Ave  had  the  time." 

"  But  that  time  was  lost." 

"  O,  Avell,"  said  Mr.  Simmons,  "  it  was  one  of 
those  days  Avhicli  everybody  must  expect  to  have. 
We  tried  hard,  but  Avcre  unsuccessful.  1  don't,  by 
any  means,  call  such  a  day  lost.  We  gave  our- 
selves up  thoroughly  to  science." 

"  Well,  call  it  a  Avell-spent  day,"  said  Mr.  Long, 
"  and  Avhat  of  it  ?  We  will  count  it  in  ;  but  after 
that  —  Avliat?  Saturday  came,  and  Ave  had  to  go 
after   the   boys   again ;    noAv   our   time's   up,  and 


THE    LOST   MINERALS. 


259 


to-night  wo  must  go  hack  again.  Wo  liave  had  a 
weok ;  and  out  of  it  we  liavo  boon  able  to  spond, 
at  tlio  vory  utmost,  only  one  day  and  twa)  hours. 
Well.  I  don't  know  how  it  strikes  you,  but  I  call 
it  hard." 

'^  It  would,  indeed,  have  been  hard  if  things  had 
turned  out  as  we  feared,"  said  Mr.  Sinnnons. 

"  0,  of  course  I  feel  all  that.  I  am  only  lament- 
ing that  those  accidents  should  have  happened, 
and  that,  when  we  came  for  a  certain  purpose,  we 
should  have  been  unable  to  carry  it  out.  And  see 
how  things  have  gone  on.  Wo  are  out  of  provis- 
ions, and  have  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  meal,  and  molas- 
ses, and  pork." 

^'  Iin  sure,  meal  makes  very  good  food,"  said 
Mr.  Sinnnons.  "  Hot  corn-cake  is  rather  a  delicacy, 
and  molasses  is  very  good  to  eat  with  it." 

"After  all,  1  don't  care  anything  al)out  those 
things,"  continued  Mr,  Long.  ^'  What  1  do  care 
about  is  the  loss  of  the  minerals." 

"  0,  they're  not  lost." 

"  Yes,  they  are.  No  one  knows  anything  about 
them.  No  one  has  seen  them.  No  one  can  find 
them.  They're  lost,  Mr.  Sinmions,  beyond  the  pos- 
sibility of  redemption." 

"  0,  I  hope  not." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  make  a  final  search.  Cap- 
tain Pratt  has  asked  every  man,  woman,  and  child 
in  the  place,  but  no  one  knows  anything  about 
them.     I'm  now  going  to  question  every  one  over 


I 


m 


, 


■jiiiii 


«,„      .  ! 


2G0 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


a^ain. 


I've  asked  Captain  Corbet  already.  He 
knows  nothing.  Captain  Corbet,  where's  the 
mate  ?  " 

"  Sound  asleep  in  the  barn,  sir.'' 

^'  Then  I'll  go  out  and  ask  him." 

Captain  Corbet  went  out  with  him,  and  after 
much  trouble  they  roused  the  sleeper,  who,  how- 
ever, could  tell  them  nothing  whatever  about  the 
stones. 

Then  Mr.  Long  asked  all  the  boys  in  succession. 
He  had  asked  them  once  before,  but  he  was  deter- 
mined to  try  it  again.  There  was  no  result.  No 
one  knew  anything  about  it.  At  last,  all  had  been 
examined  but  Pat.  Mr.  Long  felt  sorry  for  him, 
and  would  have  left  him  untroubled  ;  but  his  in- 
tense desire  to  investigate  thoroughly  was  too 
strong,  and  so  he  resolved  to  ask  him. 

Pat  w^as  trying  to  get  some  sleep,  and  with  very 
little  success.  Mr.  Long  asked  him  kindly  about 
his  feelings,  and  spoke  cheerfully  to  him  for  a  few 
moments.     At  length  he  asked  him, — 

"  Pat,  I  had  two  baskets  of  specimens,  and 
they've  been  lost.  Do  you  know  anything  about 
them  ?  " 

"  Two  baskets  of  what,  sir?'' 

"  Specimens." 

"  Spicimins,  sir?" 

"  Yes." 

"  What  are  spicimins,  sir  ?  " 

"  Why,  mineralogical  specimens.  Minerals,  you 
know." 


MR.    LONT,    QUESTIONS    PAT. 


261 


"  Minerals  ?  Surra  a  one  o'  me  knows  wluit  that 
same  is,  sir.     1  never  saw  one  in  my  life." 

"  Never  saw  a  mineral  ?  Nonsense  !  What  we 
were  gathering  on  the  island  —  " 

"  Gatherin'  ?  Was  it  minerals,  then  ?  "  said  Vdt. 
"Is  it  anythin'  like  o'  —  like  shrimps,  sir?'' 

Mr.  Long  langlied.  He  knew  Pat's  wonderiul 
ignorance  about  some  things,  Init  he  was  hardly 
prepared  for  this.  As  for  Pat,  the  poor  fellow 
found  ho  had  iiiade  a  mistake,  and  colored  violently 
from  shame  and  vexation. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  that  you  don't  know 
what  minerals  are  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Lung. 

"  i^orra  a  bit  of  it  thin,  sir." 

"  Well,  they  look  like  little  stones.  Didn't  you 
see  us  breaking  little  pieces  from  the  rocks  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  notice,  sir." 

"  That's  no  way  to  do,  Pat.  You  ought  to  keep 
your  eyes  open,  or  you'll  never  learn  anything." 


n 


Yes,  sir. 


V 


"Well,  then,  these  minerals  looked  like  common 
little  stones.  They  were  in  two  baskets.  Each 
one  was  carefully  wrapped  in  paper.  Now  those 
two  baskets  of  stones  are  missing,  and  I  can't  find 
out  anything  about  tliem.  1  want  you  to  try  and 
remember  if  you've  seen  anything  of  that  kind,  or 
if  you've  seen  any  little  bits  of  paper  tluit  may 
have    been   around   them.      Do   you  understand  ? 


Little  stones,  you  know 


V 


And  Mr.  Long  smiled   encouragingly,  so  as  to 


give 


Pat  a  chance  to  collect  his  thou2-litt 


I 


II 


II 


Wr 


W 


ff. 


i  ; 


18! 
1* 


:'.■   ;'lff'^' 


■JllPfh 


262 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


"Little  stones?"  faltered  Pat,  as  there  flashed 
over  him  an  awful  suspicion  that  ho  had  done  an 
irreparable  mischief  to  somebody,  and  to  Mr.  Long 
in  particular.     '^  Little  stones,  sir?" 

"Yes,  l*at,  little  stones.  Dirty  little  stones. 
You  might  have  seen  them,  and  would  sup{)ose 
that  many  of  them  were  worthless,  unless  they 
were  wra])])ed  in  pa[)er  an<l  carefully  packed." 

"Dirty  little  stones,  sir?"  said  Pat,  in  an  imbe- 
cile way. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Long. 

"And  aich  one  wrapped  in  paper,  sir?"  said 
Pat,  whoso  voice  died  away  into  a  mournful 
wail,  while  he  cast  an  imploring  glance  at  Mr. 
Long. 

"  Yes.  Tell  me,"  cried  Mr.  Long,  "  have  you 
seen  them  ?  " 

"  I  have,  sir,"  said  Pat,  dolefully. 

"  When  ?  where  ?  Where  are  they  now  ? 
Where  did  you  put  them  ?  " 

"I  — I  —  "     He  hesitated. 

"  Quick  !  It's  late.  I  want  to  get  them.  You 
brought  them  to  the  house,  I  suppose ;  or  did  you 
put  them  on  board  of  the  vessel?  " 

"I  — I  —  " 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  tell  me  what  you  did  with 
them?" 

"  0,  sir,  it's  heart-broken  I  am  this  minute,  sir  I 
It's  fairly  dead  wid  grafe  I  am,  sir !  You'll  niver 
forgive  me  !  an'  I'm  afraid  to  tell  you,  sir." 


'S 


MR.    LONG    IN    DESPAIR. 


263 


nth 


"What?  Wliat's  all  this?  What  have  yon  been 
doing?     What  is  it?"  said  Mr.  Long-,  sternly. 

"  O,  sir,  1  thonght  it  was  a  trick,  sir,  that  the 
boys  played  on  me,  sir;  and  1  pitched  them  over 
the  mud  into  the  bank,  sir." 

"You  what!"  cric(l  Mr.  I^ong,  in  an  awful  voice. 

Hereupon  Pat,  with  many  sighs  and  tears,  and 
entreaties  tor  })ardon,  tt)ld  him  all.  Mr.  Long  heard 
him  through  without  a  word,  '^riien  he  asked  mi- 
nutely about  the  spot  where  they  had  been  thrown. 
After  this  lie  rushed  from  the  house  down  to  the 
point.  The  tide  was  down  below  that  place,  leav- 
ing the  mud  flat  uncovered.  The  sun  was  just 
setting.     j\Ir.  Long  stared  wildly  about. 

There  was  not  a  trace  of  a  single  specimen ;  for 
the  heavy  stones  had  sunk  in,  and  the  soft  ooze 
and  slimy  mud,  closing  over  them,  had  shut  them 
from  sight. 

Mr.  Long  looked  around  in  despair.  Jfe  had 
hoped  that  he  might  recover  some  of  them,  but 
was  not  prepared  to  see  all  traces  of  them  obliter- 
ated so  completely.  Besides,  to  add  to  his  disap- 
pointment, the  sun  set  before  he  had  begun  any- 
thing like  a  search ;  and  the  shadows  of  evening 
came  on  rapidly.  What  was  he  to  do?  Could  he 
thus  give  up  the  results  of  his  expedition,  and 
consent  to  lose  those  precious  s])eciniens  for 
which  he  had  done  so  much?  The  thought  was 
intolerable.  He  would  go  back  and  interrogate 
Pat  afresh.     It  was  possible  that  Pat  had  directed 


Wf 


' 


■  ■    '  H 


n 


m  I 


264 


TTTK    R.    O.    W.    C. 


him  to  tlio  wrong  [)liice.  It  was  sfurccly  possil)lo 
tliiit  every  Htono  could  liuve  vaiiislicd  so  completely, 
if  this  were  really  the  place  where  Pat  had  thrown 
them. 

Such  were  Mr.  Long's  thoughts  and  hopes,  under 
the  stimulus  of"  which  ^- .  at  length  retreated  from 
the  bank  and  returned  to  the  house.  Thus  far  he 
had  kept  Pat's  performance  a  secret,  out  of  consid- 
eration for  Pat  himself;  for  he  was  not  willing  that 
so  glaring  a  case  of  dense  and  utter  ignorance 
should  be  made  pul)lic.  But  now  he  was  com- 
pelled to  tell  it  to  all  of  them,  so  as  to  get  their 
assistance  in  the  search ;  so,  after  once  more  ques- 
tioning Pat,  and  getting  from  him  fresh  particulars 
about  the  place  where  he  had  thrown  the  stones, 
and  finding,  to  his  dismay,  that  it  was  no  other  than 
the  very  place  where  he  had  been,  he  went  to  sum- 
mon the  rest  of  the  boys. 

Gathering  them  together,  ^Ir.  Long  began  to 
unfold  to  them  the  fate  of  the  long  sought  for,  but 
still  missing,  stones.  As  he  began,  his  native  gen- 
erosity made  him  desirous  of  sparing  poor  Pat; 
but  as  he  proceeded,  the  sense  of  his  own  wrongs 
overcame  the  dictates  of  generosity.  lie  concealed 
nothing,  he  kept  back  nothing,  he  palliated  nothing. 
All  was  made  known.  Finally,  he  implored  the 
assistance  of  every  one  of  them  in  finding  the  lost 
treasures. 

Of  course,  after  sucli  an  appeal,  there  was  no 
chance  for  refusal ;  and  so  they  at  once  prepared 


i 


■1 


> 


A    SKAUtH    BY   TOUCIILKniT. 


205 


the 
lost 


to  follow  lilin.  JJart  insisted  on  proci.riii^  torrlios, 
and  his  inventive  genius  readily  suggested  an  ex- 
cellent mo('  of  obtaining  light.  Tliis  was  by 
Btripjting  the  inllainnial)l(!  hark  from  the  hugi;  })iles 
of  hirch  iirewood  that  lay  near  the  house,  and  I'old- 
ing  these  U|)  in  compact  scroll-like  sticks.  A  largo 
number  of  these  were  made ;  and  with  these,  with 
lanterns,  and  with  pine  knots,  the  whole  band  lob 
lowed  Mr.  Long  to  the  bank.  Here  they  took  oiF 
their  shoes  and  stockings,  and  prepared  for  their 
task. 

The  mud  on  the  surface  was  very  soft  to  tho 
depth  of  several  inches,  and  into  this  they  senk; 
but  sinking  tlius  far,  they  found  a  hard  clay  bot- 
tom. Proceeding  in  this  way,  they  all  sought  with 
earnest  scrutiny  for  signs  of  the  buried  stones. 
For  some  time  nothing  could  be  Ibund.  At  last, 
with  a  cry  of  delight,  Bogud  plunged  his  hand 
into  the  mud,  and  drcw  out  something,  with  which 
he  instantly  hurried  to  Mr.  Long. 

"  Here's  one  of  them  !  "  said  he. 

He  held  out  a  lump,  at  which  Mr.  Long  and  all 
the  rest  eagerly  looked.  It  seemec  more  like  a 
small  lump  of  mud  or  clay  than  anything  else. 

So  they  all  said. 

"Pooh  !  "  said  they  ;  "  a  little  lump  of  clay." 

"  It's  not  clay,"  said  Bogud  ;  "  it's  the  amethyst. 
I  know  it  by  the  way  it  feels.  It's  covered  with 
mud,  though,  and  ought  to  be  washed  immedi- 
ately." 


m 


i. 

;'  J 

1 

■Ji' 

II 


2GG 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


Saying  this,  lie  riil)l)ud  the  clinging  mud  with 
his  fingers,  disclosing  at  last  something  with  an 
oval  surface  and  a  dirty-gray  color. 

^'  It's  the  amethyst,"  repeated  Bogud,  trium- 
phantly. '^  I  know  it  by  the  oval  back.  I  picked 
the  amethyst  myself.  Wait  till  I  get  the  rest 
of  the  mud  off.  See  here  !  —  but  —  what  — 
hallo ! " 

Ilis  confident  tones  ceased,  and  changed  to  an 
exclamation  of  doubt,  then  disgust.  The  boys  had 
crowded  around  to  see  the  exhumed  treasure,  and 
to  catch  the  secret  of  Bogud's  luck.  As  he  held 
it  fortl>  and  wiped  off  the  last  lump  of  mud  that 
adhered  to  its  edge,  it  stood  revealed  to  all. 

"  A  clam !  a  clam !  a  clam ! "  was  the  instanta- 
neous shout,  followed  by  a  peal  of  laughter. 

In  fact,  so  it  proved.  It  was  a  clam-shell  filled 
with  mud  which  Bogud  had  drawn  forth  so  trium- 
phantly. 

After  this  they  sought  for  some  time  longer. 
It  was  a  striking  scene.  The  boys  without  shoes, 
with  their  trousers  drawn  up  abovu  the  knee,  with 
their  torches  flashing  through  the  shades  of  even- 
ing, as  they  were  waved  overhead,  with  the  flakes 
wdiich  fell  every  instant  from  the  torches  into  the 
mud,  with  their  laughter,  and  noise,  and  jesting, — 
all  formed  a  scene  in  the  highest  degree  wild  and 
picturesque. 

But  the  search  was  useless.     Perhaps  the  find- 


V 


A    FAILURE. 


2G7 


ing  of  the  clam  dislieartcnerl  tlicm ;  perhaps  it  was 
really  not  possible  to  find  what  they  sought.  At 
any  rate,  after  half  an  hour,  even  ilr.  Long  him- 
self despaired,  and  called  off  all  the  boys  to  return 
to  the  house. 


■      ^    ! 

;  i     ■          ( 

'■      Hi 

mmi 


268 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


XX. 

How  to  waken  a  Sleeper.  —  Off  Home.  —  A  weary 
Way.  —  Baffled  like  thefhj'Daj  Didvliman.  —  <Jor- 
het  pines  for  his  Bahhy.  —  '■'- The  Wind  at  lad! 
Hurrah ! " 

'T  iiiidiiiglit  tlio  wliole  party  left  Captain 
Pratt's,  in  order  to  make  preparations  for 
embarking"  in  the  Antelope,  as  soon  as  tlio 
tide  would  serve.  Pat  had  regained  very  mncli 
of  his  former  strength  and  spirits  ;  the  pain  had,  in 
a  great  measure,  left  him,  and  the  reaction  from  his 
misery  exhibited  itself  in  occasional  peals  of  Avild 
laughter,  Avhicli  broke  very  strangely  uj)on  the 
silence  of  the  night.  He  was  (piite  able  to  walk 
down,  and  joked  with  the  otiier  boys  about  his 
mishap.  Trouble  had  been  anticipated  in  getting 
him  down  to  the  vessel ;  but  the  antici})ations, 
which  had  proved  baseless  in  regard  to  him, 
were  more  than  realized  in  the  case  of  the  mate. 
This  worthy  had  spent  almost  all  the  time  in  sleep- 
ing on  Captain  Pratt's  haymow  ;  and  now,  when  the 
time  had  come  for  departure,  it  was  found  a))so- 
lutely  impossible  to  rouse  him.     At  ten  o'clock, 


WAKIXO    THE   MATE. 


2G9 


i 


Captain  Corbet  liad  cnlled  liiiii,  but  witli  no  result. 
Tlien  lie  had  used  other  modes  of  rousing  him, 
which  had  all  ended  in  a  failure.  .Mr.  Long  had 
exerted  himself,  and  with  a  like  result.  As  a  last 
resort,  he  had  connnissioned  the  boys  to  do  what 
they  could  toward  rousing  the  slumberer.  They 
very  willingly  undertook  the  commission.  Ran- 
ging themselves  round  him,  they  kept  up  a  pro- 
longed shake  at  his  shoulder,  his  head,  and  his 
feet.  By  this  means  they  succeeded  in  rousing 
him  so  far  that  he  would  utter  words  in  a  dreary 
way  in  answer  to  their  cries. 

"  Get  up  !     Get  up  !  " 

"  Ye-e-e-e-e-e-s,"  was  the  reply,  ending  in  a  long 
enore. 

"  Get  up  !     ITi,  hi,  hi !  " 

"In  —  a  —  mi — i — i — n't." 

"  Hallo  1     Up  !     Get  up  1     The  schooner's  off!  " 
u  Hey  ?  '' 

"The  schooner's  off!" 

"  Hm-m-m  —  " 

"  Here  !  No  sleeping  I  Get  up  !  You  shan't 
sleep  any  more  !  Get  uj)  1  "  and  amid  loud  cries 
and  yells  the  recumbent  form  was  shaken  from 
head  to  foot.  The  mate  gaped,  and  yawned,  and 
blinked,  and  opened  his  eyes  with  a  glassy,  dreamy 
stare,  dazzled  by  a  candle-light,  which  flickered  in 
his  face,  and  confused  by  the  u])roar.  He  was 
like  a  bat  suddenly  jjlunging  into  a  lighted  parlor 
full   of  noisy    children  —  out   of  the    midst  of  a 


i? J  i 


I'M* 


1^ 
mm   ' 

H   i 

! 

r 

R  1 

1 

if 

j 

j' 

M  I' 

h 

1 

fpm 


270 


THE   B.    0,   W.    C. 


dark  niglit.  Only  he  wasn't  quite  so  much  awake 
as  a  bat  might  be. 

"  ^\y  —  name's  —  Wade/'  he  cgacuKited  at  last, 
in  a  slow  and  solemn  tone. 

'^  ITi,  hi,  hi !  Yah,  yah,  yah  !  Hi,  yah  !  h-o-o-o-o  I 
Get  up  !  " 

"  My  ole  'oman's  name's  Gipson,"  continued  the 
mate,  in  a  dreamy  voice,  as  though  amid  his  dreams 
he  was  still  following  out  the  one  train  of  thought 
which  seemed  to  engross  his  mind  during  his  wak- 
ing hours. 

"  Ya,  ya,  ya,  ya  !  Get  up  !  Get  up  !  Ilal-l-o-o- 
0-0-0  !  Bow-wow-wow  !  Ba-a-a-a-a  !  "  and  with  yells 
and  shouts  like  these,  with  cock-crows,  with  all  the 
cries  of  a  crowded  barn-yard,  the  boys  returned  to 
their  effort  at  rousing  him. 

"  An'  ye'll  not  find  many  of  that  name  in  this 
country  !  "  said  the  mate,  with  a  tone  to  which  he 
seemed  struggling  to  give  a  sleepy  emphasis. 

Up  rose  the  barn-yard  cries  again,  mingled  with 
yells,  shrieks,  bellowings,  cat-calls,  hoots,  and  roars. 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  Bart,  shakirig  his  head  vio- 
lently.    "  Won't  you  get  up  ?  " 

'*  No,  sir  !  "  said  the  mate  ;  but  whether  it  re- 
ferred to  his  dream,  or  was  intended  as  a  reply  to 
Bart,  did  not  very  clearly  appear.  The  boys  be- 
gan to  despair,  and  at  length,  after  further  endeav- 
ors, tliey  were  compelled  to  give  u]).  They  ac- 
cordingly returned  to  Mr.  Long,  and  informed  him 
of  tlieii'  utter  tiiikire. 


AM.    (»N    I'.OAIM). 


271 


Mr.  Tjonp;'s  eyes  glared  wildly. 

''  Very  well !  "  said  lie,  stonily,  and  with  a  dark 
frown.  Vc-e-ry  wtdl  !  I'll  s(!e  it'  I  can't  wake  him 
this  time.  Fve  been  humbugged  long  enough; 
and  if  words  are  of  no  use,  I'll  have  to  try  what 
virtue  there  is  in  cold  water.'' 

Saying  this,  he  seized  a  ])ail,  filled  it  at  the  well, 
and  strode  to  the  barn,  followed  bv  all  the  bovs. 
Reaching  the  place,  he  advanced  to  the  niat(>,  and 
mercilessly  emptied  the  entire  contents  full  upon 
his  head. 

That  succeeded. 

With  a  gasp,  a  splutter,  and  a  shriek,  the  mate 
started  to  his  feet,  looking  wildly  around  as  he 
tried  to  regain  the  breath  which  Mr.  Long  had 
so  rudely  driven  out  of  him. 

'■''  What  —  what  —  what  —  why,  what  —  d'ye  — 
mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  tliis,"  cried  INIr.  Long,  "  that  you're 
"wanted  on  board,  and  if  you  don't  go,  I'll  em2)ty 
the  whole  well  on  you." 

The  mate  looked  at  him  half  fearfulh  ,  half  re- 
proachfully,  and  then,  shaking  the  water  out  of  his 
dripping  locks,  he  slowly  wended  his  way  to  the 
vessel. 

At  last  all  were  on  l)oard  ;  the  baskets  and  l)oxes 
were  in  the  hold,  the  lines  were  cast  oil",  the  sails 
were  hoisted,  and  the  Antelope  drop])ed  dt)wn  the 
stream.  Messrs.  Simmons  and  Long  retired,  but 
most  of  the  boys  remained  on  deck  for  some  time, 


I, 


w 

m 
n 


. 

^1 

'i 

'tl 

Ij 

II 

1 

II 

!^ 

M 

■■ 

07«) 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


singing,  nnd  Lnigliiiig,  and  joking  with  each  one 
about  the  pecuHar  mishaps  whicli  lie  might  liave 
incurred  during  tlie  last  eventful  week.  At  length 
all  retired,  and  silence  reigned  over  the  schooner 
and  over  the  deep. 

Early  in  the  morning  all  were  up.  The  sea,  far 
and  wide,  wa.s  as  smooth  as  glass,  except  where 
long  lines,  and  occasional  ripples,  showed  the  meet- 
ing of  opposing  currents.  Alxjve,  the  sky  was 
cloudless,  the  sun  was  bright,  and  in  the  air  not  a 
breath  of  wind  was  stirring.  Upon  this  Mr.  Long 
looked  with  extreme  impatience,  frowning  darkly 
upon  land,  sea,  and  sky.  The  schooner's  sails  were 
flapping  idly,  her  head  was  pointed  toward  the 
Five  Islands,  and  Captain  Corbet  was  standing 
Hstlessly  at  the   hehi. 

"Captain,  what's  all  this?"  asked  Mr.  Long. 
"  Thu  schooner  is  heading  toward  the  Five  Islands. 
Are  we  going  back?  " 

"  No,  sir.  The  schooner's  not  particular  just 
now  whar  she  heads." 

"  Why  don't  you  steer  for  Grand  Pr(5?" 

"  Jest  what  Fd  like  to  do,  if  she'd  let  me." 

"  Let  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  There  ain't  a  mite  o'  wind,  an'  she's 
goin'  every  which  way." 

"  Then  we're  standing  still,  and  doing  nothing." 

'S^tandin'  still?"  cried  Ca[)tain  Corbet.  "Lor' 
bless  yoi  ,  a  couple  of  hours  ago  we  were  ten  miles 
Up  there  ;  "  and  lui  pointed  hir  away  toward  the 
other  end  of  the  bay. 


DRIFTIXn. 


273 


KM 


just 


"  Up  tlicre  ?  " 

"  Yes.  We're  not  staridin'  still ;  not  by  no  man- 
ner o'  means." 

''  What  are  we  doing?" 

"Drif'tin'." 

"Drifting?" 

"  Yes  ;  goin'  ahead  like  a  racc-liorso  —  liead  fust, 
tad  fust,  sideways,  end  on,  and  every  kind  o'  way 
that  a  floatin'  craft  kin  move." 

"  Where  are  we  drifting  to?" 

"  Down  to  Blomidon." 

''  Blomidon  !  "  cried  Mr.  Long,  aghast. 

"  Yes ;  an'  farther  too.  It'll  be  lucky  if  we 
don't  find  ourselves  out  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy  be- 
fore long." 

"But  can't  you  do  something?  Can't  you  sail 
for  some  harbor  ?  " 

"  Jest  what  I'm  a  pinin'  to  do,  on'y  I  can't  come 
It,  nohow.  Ef  I  had  a  steam  tug-boat  I'd  clap  a 
line  on  board  her,  an'  get  into  a  place  of  rofooge  ; 
but  bein'  as  there  isn't  any,  we've  got  to  drift." 

"  Why  don't  you  anchor  ?  " 

"  Anchor  ?  "  cried  Captain  Corbet,  in  surprise. 
"  Why,  the  anchor's  broke." 

^^  "  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Long,  in  bitter  vexation, 
"  haven't  you  got  something  —  no  sweeps  ?  " 

"  Not  a  sweep,  as  I'm  a  livin'  Corbet." 

It  was  too  true.     There  was  no  wind,  and  they 

were  drifting  at  the  mercy  of  the  tide.     The  ves- 

sel  went  every  way,  beading  in  no  direction.    They 

18  -^ 


ill 

III 


m 


f  ' 


h 

'ill 

1' 

! 

1. 

■  {                1 

\mt 

1.1 

M 

L 

274 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


liud  no  Jinchor,  aiul  tlicy  could  not  sail  into  tlio 
shore.  Tlioy  wore  coniplctcly  helpless.  By  this 
time  they  had  all  hoped  to  be  near  their  destina- 
tion;  but  it  weenied,  from  appearances,  that  they 
were  larther  away  than  ever. 

AV^hat  brought  their  situation  home  most  forcibly 
to  all,  was  the  solemn  fact  that  their  provision  was 
now  limited  to  Indian  meal  and  molasses,  with  a 
little  salt  pork.  if  Solomon  had  only  been  on 
board,  it  would  not  have  been  so  bad,  for  the 
genius  of  the  venerable  cook  would  have  evolved 
even  out  of  such  unpromising  materials  as  these  a 
wonderful  variety  of  palatable  dishes.  But  Solo- 
mon was  far  away,  and  the  cooking  was  intrusted 
to  the  clumsy  hands  of  the  mate.  His  attempts 
were  so  deplorable  that  the  l)oys  were  permitted 
to  make  experiments  of  their  own  in  the  lofty  art 
of  cookery.  The  conse(i[uence  was,  that  they  spent 
the  whole  morning  in  the  cabin,  and  used  up  most 
of  the  molasses  in  making  candy,  which,  though 
very  badly  burned,  was  still  more  agreeable  than 
the  burned  paste  of  Indian  meal  which  the  mate 
laid  before  them  as  a  breakfast. 

The  hours  of  the  morning  passed,  and  neither 
anger,  nor  impatience,  nor  hunger  could  have  any 
eifect  upon  the  relentless  tides.  The  schooner 
calmly  and  placidly  went  drifting  on,  past  Blomi- 
don,  past  Cape  Split;  and  they  would  assuredly 
have  drifted  out  into  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  had  they 
not,   very    fortunately,    encountered   a    side    cur- 


ftTlLT.    nniPTINT.. 


2ir, 


(.either 
vii  any 
looiier 
Blomi- 
niredly 
1(1  they 
le    cur- 


rent, which  l)()re  tliem  into  a  l)ay  by  Spencer's 
Island.  There  tlu'y  remained  enil)ayed  till  the 
turn  of  tide,  and  then  they  were  home  out  a<;-ain, 
and  up  the  channel,  on  the  way  back  into  the  Basin 
ot"  Minas. 

They  were  so  near  the  shore  tliat  Mr.  Lonj:;  de- 
liberated seriously  about  landing,  jn)ing  on  foot  to 
Parrsboro'  village,  and  trying  to  get  a  row-boat  to 
take  them  to  Cornwallis,  or  taking  the  steamer  to 
AVindsor,  or  doing  something  else  equally  desper- 
ate. But  Captain  (i)rl)et  assured  hiui  that  the 
steamer  woidd  not  come  for  two  days,  and  that  he 
would  be  utterly  unable  to  get  any  men  to  row 
him  so  far.  So  he  was  compelled  to  stay  by  the 
schooner. 

Captain  Corbet  bore  all  this  with  admirable 
equanimity,  looking  with  a  mild  conctn'n  at  the 
impatience  of  Mr.  Long,  and  regarding  the  boys 
with  the  indulgent  smile  of  a  superior  being. 
Leaving  the  tiller  to  take  care  of  itself,  he  nu"n- 
gled  with  them,  and  conversed  freely  with  all. 
They  drifted  fiir  up  into  the  Basin  of  JVIinas,  and 
looked  forward  to  nothing  better  than  a  return  to 
Blomidon  and  Cape  Split,  with,  perhaps,  an  excur- 
sion in  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

So  the  day  passed,  and  night  came.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  they  found  themselves  still  in  the 
Basin  of  Minas,  not  far  from  the  Five  Islands,  and 
drifting  toward  Blomidon. 

"  VVal,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  '^  I've  been  a-thinkin' 


hU: 


276 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


iiiii 


tliJit  tin's  lioro  is  just  like  the  Flyi'n'  Diitrlinuin. 
You've  licord  toll  of  him  ;  course.  They  suy  he's 
a-sailiu'  an'  u-beatin'  round  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope,  hut  cjin't  never  ^ct  round,  nohow.  That's 
jest  the  [)eco()liarity  of  our  [K)sition.  Here  we 
are,  almost  in  sight  of  home,  you  may  say,  an' 
still  we  have  to  g-o  a-driftin'  an'  a-driftin',  an'  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  we'll  get  out  into  the  ]>ay  of 
Fundy  to-day.  If  that  happens,  it  wouldn't  be  a 
wonder  if  we  were  Mown  off  to  IJosting." 

''  Captain,"  said  Mr.  Long,  '^  1  can't  stand  this. 
I  must  get  ashore.  If  we  get  near  to  Blomidon 
again,  I'll  take  Bruce  llawdon,  and  go  ashore  in 
the  boat.  I  rmcst  go,  for  it's  a  matter  of  the  high- 
est importance.  Of  course,  it's  dillerent  with  you. 
You  wouldn't  care  if  you  drilled  here  till  dooms- 
day." 

At  this  (^iptain  Corbet  thrust  both  hands  deep 
into  his  trousers'  pockets,  and  regarded  Mr.  Long 
with  a  fixed  gaze. 

"  Me  ?  "  said  he,  in  a  mild  and  almost  parental 
tone.  "  Me  not  care  ?  me!  Look  here,  Mr.  L(mg. 
Do  you  know  what  I  am  ?  I'm  a  parient  I  Your 
books  call  you  home,  sir;  but  what  is  it  that's 
a-callin'  o'  me  ?  jMy  babby,  sir  !  That  there  tender 
infant  has  twined  hisself  round  my  boosom ;  an' 
what  am  I  a-doin'  ?  You  don't  know,  sir ;  but  I'm 
a-yearnin'  an'  a-pinin'  for  my  babby.  He's  the  most 
M^onderful  babby  that  I  ever  see,''  continued  the 
captain,  in  a  faltering  voice.    '*  He's  got  the  pootiest 


H 


V 


ental 
.ong. 
Your 
hat's 
uder 
an' 
t  I'm 
most 
d  the 
otiest 


? 


MR.    L0.\(;    vs.    TIIK    DAHV. 


277 


crow;  and  if  voii'd  jest  licar  liim  say  his  ga,  ga, 
ga-" 

'M),  l>()thor  your  coiifoundtMl  hahy  ! "  said  Mr. 
Long,  with  hiatal  rudeness,  turning  away  ah- 
rui)tly. 

Captain  Corl)Gt  looked  after  liim  witli  a  puz/Jed 
expression.  At  first,  indignant  suri)rise  seemed 
to  predominate,  and  tlioso  who  stood  near  antici- 
pated an  outhurst  of  h)ng-restrained  feehng.  JJut 
it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Then  Captain  Corhet's 
hetter  angel  came  to  his  assistance.  Indignation 
vanished,  and  the  face  that  was  turned  toward  ^Ir. 
Long  had  on  it  nothing  but  a  meek,  sad  smile. 

Captain  Corbet  shook  his  head. 

''  Thar,  that's  it ;  alius  the  same,"  said  he  ;  "  on- 
sympathetic,  hard  as  a  milestone,  an'  owdacious  in 
opposition  to  the  tender  babe.  Human  natur',"  he 
continued,  elevating  his  patriarchal  head,  and  re- 
garding Mr.  Long's  back  with  a  severe  dignity, — 
"  human  natur'  might  exult  in  a  administerin'  of  a 
rebewk  to  sioh  langedgo  ;  but  I've  learned  a  better 
lesson.  Yes,  boys.  I've  sot  at  the  feet  of  my  babby. 
The  aged  Corbet  has  received  insterruction  from  a 
mild  infant.  Now,  I  regard  all  that,"  waving  his 
hand  toward  Mr.  Long,  "not  with  anger,  not  with  re- 
perroach,  no,  but  with  kimpassion.  1  j)ity  him.  I 
ieol  sorry  for  him.  To  him  is  unknown  the  holiest 
feeling  of  the  hewman  boosum ;  sich  as  /feel,  sich 
as  every  feyther  feels  wdien  he's  a-nussin'  of  hia 
pe7xsshns  babby." 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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278 


THE   li.   U.    W.   C. 


XXI. 


It 


Blomidon,   insulfe(J,    avoKjcs    h'nnsvlf.  —  A  Victim 
devotes  lilntneJj'  to  ajtpetf.se  Jils  U^rotJi. —  Orhjlmd 
V'leius  of  Ofjttdui  Coi'lnt  irltJi  rec/ard  to  the  Ar- 
diteoloijij  and  tlie  Science  t*/'  Navujatlon. 


m 


li 


!fii 


riE  scIkioiht  went  on  di'iTtin^',  and  drew  near 
to  nioniidon  a;j,ain.  'riie  ^iant  I'lilV  fVowncMl 
darkly  overhead,  its  sides  all  searred  and 
riven  by  the  tempests  ol'  i-enturies,  its  hase  worn 
by  the  tierce  tides  that  never  cease  to  sweep  to 
and  fro.  Standinjj,-  as  it  does,  it  Ibnns  one  of  the 
subliniest  objects  in  nature.  Otiier  cliil's  are  iar 
higher,  and  every  way  more  stiii)endoiis ;  ])ut 
Blomidon  is  so  ])ecnliar  by  its  shape,  its  position, 
and  its  surroundings,  that  it  stands  monarch  of 
tlie  scene,  and  rises  always  with  a  certain  regal 
majesty,  scddom  ai)])earing  without  its  diadem  of 
clouds.  All  around  are  low  lands,  wide  meadows, 
and  quiet  valleys,  and  the  far  spreading  sea,  into 
which  this  rugge(l  height  is  boldly  ])rojected, 
terminating  an  abru})t  rocky  wall.  From  the 
sliores,  for  many  and  many  a  mile  around,  wherever 
the  eye  may  wander  over  the  scenery,  it  rests  upon 
this  as  the  centre  of  the  view. 


BLOMIDON. 


279 


u 


"  Blomidon/'  said  Bart,  "  louks  more  magnificent- 
ly tlian  ever,  and  we  have  an  excellent  chance  for 
a  close  inspection." 

"  1  confess,"  said  Bruce,  "  that  I  would  rather 
not  have  so  good  a  chance  just  now.  I'd  rather 
be  near  the  mud  flats  of  Cornwallis  than  this  ma- 
jestic clilf." 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  said  Phil,  "  that  Blomidon  is 
taking  it  out  of  us." 
'^IIow?" 

"  llow  ?  Why,  because  we  slighted  him.  Wo 
started  with  the  intention  of  landing  here,  and 
instead  of  doing  so  we've  been  almost  everywhere 
but  here,  ti^o  now  he  has  got  us,  and  he  will 
keej)  us." 

'^  Well,  if  we    only    had    something    to    eat     I 
wouldn't  care." 
"  I  can't  eat  pork." 
"  And  I  always  iiated  Indian  meal." 
"  And  I'm  getting  tired  of  molasses  candy." 
"  Besides,  1  don't  believe  that  it's  healthy." 
"  And  then,  you  know,  it's  always  burnt." 
"  But  it  certainly  takes  away  one's  appetite." 
"  Yes,  that's  a  (M)nsideration.     What  would  be- 
come of  us  if  our  apj)etites  were  left  ?" 

As  they  spoke,  Mr.  Ijong  drew  near.  They  were 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  tiie  cliff,  and  were  drifting 
slowly  by.  He  looked  up  at  the  sunnnit,  as  it 
towered  fiir  above  him,  and  tlien  ran  his  eye  along 
the  black,  tempest-torn  sides. 


1 

1 

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il 

ll 


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ill 

II' 

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ft! 

1 

'mm. 

}  " 

280 


THE   B.    O.    W.   C. 


"  Boys,"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  "  yon're  ri^lit. 
Blumidon  feels  his  majesty  to  he  slighted.  He's 
avenging  himself  on  us.  He'll  keep  us  here  till  he 
gets  a  victim,  or  at  least  till  some  apology  is  made. 
Now,  I'm  going  to  appease  his  sullen  majesty." 

"  How's  that,  sir  ?  " 

'^  By  offering  up  a  victim.  And  who  do  you 
think  it  will  be  ?     It  will  bo  —  myself." 

"  You,  sir  !  " 

'^  Yes.     I'm  going  to  land." 

''  To  land  !  " 

"  Yes.  One  of  you  can  take  me  ashore,  and 
leave  me.  I  know  the  place  well  enough,  and  will 
walk  to  the  nearest  village.  I  can  get  a  horse 
easily  enough,  and  be  homo  before  sundown." 

"  Can't  some  of  us  go  with  you,  sir  ?  "  asked 
Bart,  eagerly. 

"  0,  no.  It's  better  for  you  to  stay.  You  had 
better  remain  together ;  besides,  the  walk  will  be 
too  rough.  For  my  part,  I  wouldn't  go  if  I  could 
help  it.  But  I  must  go.  My  work  demands  my 
presence  at  once.  And  then  —  I  really  can't  stand 
this  any  longer.  I  could,  perhaps,  endure  the 
delay,  but  I  can  not  stand  Captain  Corbet  and 
his  —  ehem  !  —  his  baby." 

As  he  said  this,  he  looked  toward  Captain  Cor- 
bet, who  was  out  of  hearing,  and  was  standing  dis- 
coursing, with  a  pleasant  smile,  to  Bogud  and 
Jiggins. 

''Bruce,  will  you  put  me  ashore?"  asked  Mr. 
Long. 


MR.    LONG    DKPARTS. 


281 


"  Certainly,  sir,  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  But 
I'm  very  sorry  that  you're  going." 

''  1  wish  you'd  let  all  of  us  go,  sir,"  said  Arthur. 

Mr.  Long  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said.  ''  You  see  it  will  be  easy  enougli 
for  one  to  get  a  horse  to  take  him  over,  but  so 
many  could  not  do  it.  So  I'll  go  alone.  I've  been 
there  before,  and  I  know  my  way." 

"  It  will  seem  worse  than  ever  when  you  go, 
sir,"  said  Bart. 

"  0,  you'll  have  a  wind  before  long.  You  won't 
be  home  as  soon  as  I  am,  for  the  tide  won't  let 
you  ;  but,  I  dare  say,  you  won't  be  much  behind 
me.  Take  care  of  yourselves,  and  don't  try  the 
boat  again." 

Saying  this,  Mr.  Long  went  to  Mr.  Simmons,  to 
announce  his  determinaticm.  That  gentleman  was 
much  surprised,  and  endeavored  to  dissuade  him. 
But  Mr.  Long  was  not  to  be  dissuaded.  Ca])tain 
Corbet  said  nothing.  He  merely  elevated  his  eye- 
brows ;  and  there  was  that  in  his  face  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  There,  I  knew  it.  I'm  not  at  all 
surprised.  I'm  sorry  for  him,  but  not  surf)rised. 
He's  capable  of  any  piece  of  wildness.  He  can't 
appreciate  babl)ies.  What  more  would  you  have 
from  such  a  man  ? "  All  this  liis  face  fully  ex- 
pressed, but  not  a  word  of  all  this  did  Cai)tain  Cor- 
bet say. 

Mr.  Long  shook  hands  with  all  the  boys.  Bruce 
was  in  the  boat  waiting,  and  soon  he  jumped  in. 


lit  I 


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lil 


ir  ■ 

, 

I; 

; 

liiiit 

U 

282 


TIIK    H.    ().    W.    C. 


The  line  was  cast  oiT.  nnd  Bruce  sculled  on  over 
the  smooth  water  witiiout  much  difliculty.  Tlie 
tide  was  running  rapidly,  but  there  was  plenty  of 
coast  hefore  them  ;  it  was  not  far  away,  and  before 
long  the  boat  had  reached  the  beach. 

Mr.  Long  jumped  out,  and  as  his  foot  touched 
the  shore,  he  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  ''  here  I  am  at  last." 

"  Which  way  are  you  going,  sir?  "  asked  Bruce. 

"  Well,  I'll  walk  along  the  shore  for  two  or  three 
miles,  and  after  that  I  can  find  my  way  to  a  road." 

"  You  know  your  way  I  suppose,  sir  ?  "  asked 
Bruce,  anxicmsly. 

"  0,yes.  I've  been  here  often.  I  know"  all  about 
it.  I'll  make  very  good  time  if  I  don't  get  at- 
tracted by  the  minerals.  That's  my  only  danger 
here.     Good  by." 

He  wrung  Bruce's  hand,  and  walked  off.  Bruce 
then  returned  to  the  schooner,  and  reached  it 
without  difficulty.  The  boys  on  board  watched 
Mr.  Long  for  some  time.  The  vessel  was  drifting 
down  the  strait,  and  he  was  walking  along  the 
shore  in  an  opposite  direction.  They  watched  his 
black  figure  till  he  turned  around  a  curve  in  the 
shore,  and  passed  out  of  sight. 

For  some  time  the  vessel  continued  to  drift 
under  tlie  same  circumstances,  without  any  signs 
of  wind,  or  even  the  prospect  of  a  friendly  mud  Hat 
on  whicii  they  could  be  quietly  and  comfortably 
stranded.     This  time  they  drifted  below  ISpencer's 


A    CURIOUS   SPY-GLASS. 


283 


Island,  and  looked  out  into  tlie  Bay  of  Fiindy  with 
a  vague  fear  of  being  borne  away  into  its  waters, 
and  carried  off  for  immeasurable  distances.  But 
the  tide  soon  turned  after  they  had  reached  this 
place  ;  and  though  the  dark  form  of  lie  Haute 
towered  up  gloomily  from  out  the  waters  of  the 
Bay  of  Fundy,  yet  they  came  no  nearer  to  it. 

On  the  turn  of  the  tide  they  drifted  back  onco 
more.  This  gave  them  much  relief,  for  as  long  as 
they  were  within  the  Basin  of  Minas  it  did  not 
seem  so  bad.  As  they  drifted  along  they  came  to 
the  place  where  Mr.  Long  had  landed,  and  they 
watched  anxiously  to  see  if  there  were  any  signs 
of  him.     They  found  none. 

"  If  we  only  had  a  glass,"  said  Bart.  "  Captain 
Corbet,  haven't  you  a  glass  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  a  kind  of  a  one.'' 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  It's  in  the  cabin." 

"  May  I  have  it  ?  " 

''  0,  yes." 

Bart  went  down  and  looked  for  some  time.  At 
last  he  returned  disappointed. 

"  I  can't  find  any  glass.  Captain  Corbet,"  said  he. 

"  Why,  it's  jest  in  front  of  yer  nose,"  said  Cap- 
tain  Corbet.  "  Come  down.  I'll  show  you  where 
it  is." 

Down  went  Bart  after  Captain  Corbet,  and  the 
latter  pointed  to  the  wall. 

"  There,"  said  he.    "  I  wonder  you  didn't  see  it.'' 


l!  i\ 


1      ; 


■If;. 


284 


THE   B.    O.   W.   C. 


"  Where  ?  "  asked  Bart. 

"Where?  Why,  there,"  Raid  Captain  Corbet; 
and  saying  this  he  put  his  horny  finger  on  a  small 
triangular  fragment  of  what  was  once  a  looking- 
glass,  which  small  ti''ano:v.]iir  fragment  was  fastened 
to  a  post,  on  one  side  of  the  cabin,  with  brass 
trunk  naiis. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  Captain  Corbet.  "  You  don't 
seem  to  have  any  eyes  in  your  head,  though  you're 
sharp  enough  sometimes,  gracious  knows." 

"  That !  "  cried  Bart.  "That !  Why,  it's  a  spy- 
glass I  want." 

"  A  .§2)?/-glass !  0,  yes.  Wal,  I  hain't  got 
none." 

"  You  haven't  any  !  " 

"  No  ;  never  owned  one  in  all  my  born  days." 

"  That's  odd,  too.  I  thought  every  sea  captain 
had  to  have  one." 

"  Wal,  no.  There  ain't  no  great  use  for  Rich. 
They're  a  kind  o'  luxury,  you  see.  I  don't  have 
any  call  for  them.  There's  other  machines,  too, 
that  they  talk  al)out,  sech  as  quadrupeds  an' 
sextons  ;  but  1  never  bother  my  head  about  'em." 

"  Why,  how  do  you  manage  to  sail  your 
schooner  ?  " 

"  How  ?     Why,  jest  up  sail  an'  let  her  slide." 

"  But  what  do  you  do  when  you're  out  of  sight 
of  land  ?  " 

"  Never  git  out  of  sight.  Ef  I  should,  I'd  steer 
straight  back  for  the  land  agin." 


THE   APOSTLE    PAUL    AND    HTS    COMPASS. 


285 


sr 


"  Wluit  do  you  do  in  tlio  fog  ?  "  asked  Jiart. 

"  Tlio  fog?  I  jest  do  tlio  best  I  kin.  Anyways, 
I  don't  see  wliat  use  a  sexton  would  bo  in  a  fog, 
nor  a  (quadruped  nutlier.  Then  them  sort  o'  con- 
earns  have  to  be  worked  by  the  sun.  So,  you  see, 
they're  no  manner  o'  use  in  these  here  waters,  nor 
in  no  wa^^ers  at  alb  People  git  along  jest  as  well 
without  'em.  Why,  here  am  1,  an'  I  bin  sailin'  this 
forty  year,  an'  never  tetched  a  sexton  nor  a  ([und- 
ruped ;  and  me  bin  all  the  way  to  Bosting.  Be- 
sides, did  Noah  make  his  vyge  in  the  Ark  with  a 
quadruped?  No,  a//-.  Did  Solomon  have  one  in 
the  ship  that  he  sailed  to  Ophir?  Agin  I  say, 
no,  sir.  So  I  conclude  that  what  the  prophets,  an' 
patriarchs,  an'  wise  men  of  old,  —  an'  a  darn  sight 
better  men  than  sea  captains  are  as  they  go  these 
times,  —  what  they  did  without,  we  can  do  with- 
out." 

"  But  you  liave  a  compass  ?  " 

"  Course  I  have." 

"  They  didn't  have  a  compass  in  those  days." 

''  Yes,  they  did." 

"  Excuse  mo  —  they  didn't  have  anything  of  the 
kind." 

"  Excuse  me,  young  sir,  —  hein'  a  man  old  enougli 
to  be  your  feyther,  an'  a  seatarin'  man,  too,  an', 
what's  more,  a  man  that  reads  his  Bible,  —  but 
they  did." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  you  make  that 
out." 


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1  I 


28G 


THE   IJ.    ().    W.    C. 


"  Did  you  over  rciul  Acts?" 

'M)t' course." 

"  Did  you  ever  lia|t))('ii  to  lii^ar  toll  of  the  vvgo 
of  the  'postlc  l*aui,  youii^  sir?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  Avliat's  that  got  to  do  witli  it  ?  You 
don't  mean  to  say  that  lie  liud  a  coiu})ass." 

"  That's  the  very  pint  that  I'm  u  drivin'  at." 

''  Wliat  !  that  tlie  apostk;  Paul  had  a  compass?" 

"  Course  he  had." 

"  Wl»y,  tlie  comj)ass  wasn't  known  till  the  four- 
teenth century.  Flavio  (Jioja,  of  Amalli,  is  the  ona 
that  they  say  invented  it." 

"  So  that's  Avhat  they  teach  you  over  tluM'e  at 
the  Academy  —  is  it?"  said  Ca|)tain  Corhet,  with  a 
look  that  would  have  been  one  ol' scoi'u  if  it  hadn't 
been  so  full  of  pity.  "  So  that's  what  they  teach 
•—is  it?  Wal!  wal!  wal!  If  lever!  1  never  did! 
IToAvever,  I'll  show  you  at  oncc^  what's  the  wuth, 
the  terew  wuth,  of  your  larnin',  when  it's  put 
fair  an'  scpiare  in  op])osition  to  facts.  Look  here 
now,  an'  listen,  an'  don't  forget.  In  the  account 
of  that  vyge,  it  says  distinctly,  '  So  we  fetched 
a  compass.'  What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that, 
now  ?  hey  ?  " 

And  Captain  Corbet  drew  himself  up,  and 
watched  the  effect  of  this  startling  piece  of  in- 
telligence. 

Upon  Bart  the  effect  was  instantaneous,  though 
not  of  the  kind  whicli  Captain  Corbet  expected. 
A  light  broke  in  upon  his  mind,  and  a  smile  burst 


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CAPTAIN   CORBET   INDKJNANT. 


2S7 


forth,  and  spread  like  suiisliino  over  his  lately 
puzzled  face.  He  said  nothiiij;'  for  some  time,  hut 
looked  away  so  as  to  take  in  the  full  flavor  of  what 
he  considered  so  gcjod  a  thing. 

"  0,  yes,"  said  he  at  last.  ''  I  sec.  I  under- 
stan<h  I  never  thought  of  that  heforc.  I  must 
let  the  fellows  know.  I'll  tell  them  all  at  school, 
from  Dr.  Porter  down  to  the  smallest  boy  in  the 
primary  department.  And  I'll  let  thtun  all  know 
that  it  was  you  that  told  me.  They've  all  got  an 
idea  that  it  was  invented  either  by  the  Arabs,  or 
the  Greeks,  or  the  Italians  ;  but  now  they  shall 
hear  Captain  Corbet's  theory." 

"  Yes  —  do  —  do,"  said  Captain  Corbet,  eagerly. 
"  An'  tell  them  that  /  told  yon.  Tell  Dr.  Porter. 
Pd  like  to  know  what  the  doctor's  got  to  say." 

"  iSay  !  He'll  say  nothing  —  he'll  be  dumb. 
But  I  must  hurry  up.  It's  strange,  too.  I  was 
sure  you  had  a  spy-glass.  You  had  one  in  the 
boat  when  you  came  after  us  the  time  we  were 
aground." 

"  So  we  had,  but  it  wan't  mine." 

''  Whose  was  it  ?  " 

'^  Captain  Pratt's." 

''  0,  then,  that  accounts  for  it.  Pm  sorry  too. 
I  hoped  to  be  able  to  find  out  where   Mr.  Long 


was. 


V 


"Mr.  Long?  Don't  bother  al)out  him.  He's 
all  right.  He's  among  his  native  rocks.  A  man 
like  that ;  a  man  that's  a  stranger  to  the  charms 


!«' 

, 

ii 

■(  <. 


288 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


of  a  gentle  smilin'  babby ;  a  man  that  gets  mad 
with  others,  who  are  nat'rally  pinin'  for  their 
absent  olfsprin',  —  such  a  man  has  a  heart  tliat 
is  a  rock,  an'  had  oughter  make  up  his  abode 
among  rocks.  I  see  now  why  it  is  that  he  spends 
all  his  time  a  gatherin'  of  'em.  Why,  I  told  him 
some  of  the  most  aflectin'  things  about  my 
babby.  But  what  did  he  say  ?  He  !  He  almost 
swore  !  Can  any  parient  be  willin'  to  put  his  son 
to  be  taught  by  a  man  like  that  —  a  man  whose 
heart  is  as  hard  as  a  nether  milestone  ?  " 

"  He's  very  kind  to  us,"  said  Bart.  "  All  of  the 
boys  at  school  love  Mr.  Long  dearly." 

*'  That  ain't  the  pint,"  said  Captain  Corbet. 
"  The  pint  is,  how  does  he  feel  about  a  babby  ? 
Does  he  yearn  over  'em  ?  Doos  lie  delight  in 
their  little  pooty  ways  ?  Doos  he  crow  over  'em  ? 
Doos  he  nuss  'em  an'  dandle  'em  ?  I  jedge  of  a 
man  that  way,  an'  by  them  there  signs ;  an'  I 
call  that,  by  a  long  chalk,  the  most  entirely 
jodgematical  way  of  readin'  an'  interpretatin'  hu- 
man natur'.  Read  by  that  light,  Air.  Long  ain't 
a  succumstance.  He's  loft  us.  I'm  glad.  Let 
him  wander  among  the  rocks  and  stones  of  Blomi- 
don  !  " 

V/ith  this.  Captain  Corbet  turned  away,  not 
caring  to  pursue  the  subject  further.  Bart  went 
on  deck  again,  to  spread  among  his  companions 
Captain  Corbet's  peculiar  views  on  the  subject 
of  spy-glasses,  sextants,  quadrants,  and  compasses. 


CAPTAIN   CORBET'S   THEORIES. 


289 


TliGse  now  tlioories  creatcil  an  iinmen.^e  sonsa- 
tion  ;  and  wliatovor  opinion  there  may  liave  been 
had  before  about  the  captain's  seamanship,  there 
was  no  question  now  as  to  the  perfect  originahty 
of  his  views. 

19 


m  I 


290 


THE  B.   O.   W.   C. 


XXII. 


Il'^' 


ill 


iA 


Being  jolly  under  creditable  Circumstances.  —  Songs, 
Medleys,  Choruses,  Cheers,  Laughter,  Speeches, 
liespoiises.  —  Tlie  Mud  again.  —  Hard  and  fast. 
—  What'll  you  do  now,  my  Boy  ? 

^|%^R.  LONG  liad  gone  from  their  gaze  com- 
"1  I  ^  j)letely,  and  could  be  seen  no  more.  While 
^t  trying  to  find  him,  the  boys  made  conjec- 

tures as  to  where  he  might  be.  Giving  up  all  idea 
of  his  being  on  the  beach,  they  imagined  him  wend- 
ing his  solitary  way  far  up  the  coast,  or,  perhaps, 
scaling  the  mighty  clilf  itself  in  some  more  acces- 
sible place.  Gradually  the  vessel  drifted  farther 
and  farther  away,  until  at  length  it  was  far  up  in 
Minas  J5asin. 

'^  Well,  boys,"  said  Bart,  "  this  is  getting  to  be 
monotonous.  We're  like  ferrymen,  going  forever 
between  two  points." 

"  Yes,  or  like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock,  vibrating 
always,  backward  and  forward." 

"  One  more  night  of  drifting  is  before  us." 

"  More  meals  of  pork  and  molasses." 

"  Or  burut  Indian  paste." 


A   CALM. 


291 


"  Or  smoky  molasses  candy." 
"The  worst  of  it  is,  that  we  have  nothing  to 
amuse  ourselves  with." 

"  It's  a  pity  we  couhhi't  start  some  game." 
"  Bart,  tell  a  story." 

"  A  story  ?  "  said  Bart.  "  Who  could  tell  a  story 
under  such  circumstances  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe,"  said  Bruce,  "  that  a  calm  was 
ever  known  to  last  so  long  in  the  Basin  of  Minas. 
Was  it,  captain?"  he  added,  appealing  to  Captain 
Corbet,  who  had  just  emerged  from  the  cabin. 

"  Wal,"  replied  Captain  Corbet,  "  it's  not  usual 
to  have  a  calm  in  the  month  of  May ;  still,  we  do 
have  'em  sometimes." 

"  I  should  rather  think  we  had,"  said  Bart. 
"  I've  known  'em  last  a  week,"  said  Captain  Cor- 
bet, solemnly. 
"  A  week  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  hull  week ;  but  that  was  in  Julv.  Still, 
there's  no  knowin'.  It  may  be  in  May  this' 
year." 

"  Then  we'll  have  to  go  ashore  in  the  boat  to- 
morrow.    I  will.     I'll  mutiny,  and  start  off." 

So  spoke  Bart,  and  the  rest  all  declared  that  they 
would  do  the  same. 

"  0,  we'll  have  wind  to-night,"  said  Captain  Cor- 
bet, in  a  tone  of  vague  encouragement.     "Yes 
yes,  we  must  have  wind  to-night,  or  before  morn- 
in'.      We've   had  about  calm  enough.      You  feel 
anxious,  no  deoubt,  all  on  ye,"  he  continued,  with 


If 


i 


292 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


Ill' 


a  superior  smile  ;  '^  but  if  you  feel  so,  jedge  what 
I  must  feel  —  me,  with  my  babby.  Why,  every 
minute,  —  yes,  ever}'  mortial  minute,  —  the  voice 
of  tliat  there  smilin'  babe  is  a-soundin'  in  my  ears. 
Sometimes  he  says,  '  Ga-g-a-ga/  and  sometimes 
'Da-da-da;'  and  sometimes  the  cunnin' leetil  human 
creetur  emits  a  irv,  —  a  favorite  one  of  his'n, — 
that  sounds  jest  like  '  15o-rax  !  Bo-rax  !  Bo-rax  ! ' 
Isn't  it  odd?" 

And  he  looked  at  the  boys  with  that  mild  face 
of  his,  whereon  was  intermingled  an  expression 
partly  made  up  of  a  father's  aftection,  and  partly 
of  tender  enjoyment  of  his  little  cherub's  innocent 
ways. 

"And  what  does  he  mean  by  Borax?"  asked 
Bruce. 

"  Wl^  tt  does  he  mean?  Why,  a'most  everything. 
It's  a  pet  name  he  gives  to  me,  you  know.  That 
and  '  Ga-ga '  —  " 

"  I  suppose  he  doesn't  know  the  English  lan- 
guage yet." 

"  No,  he  hain't  lamed  it  yet ;  but  he's  a-gettin' 
on.  Why,  I  could  stand  here  for  hours  and  tell 
you  words  of  his'n.  He's  iiucommon  spry,  too. 
He  —  " 

"  Bart,"  cried  Bruce,  suddenly,  "  start  up  a  song. 
Sing  '  Uncle  Ned.'  " 

At  this  Bart  started  up  a  song,  which  was  a  med- 
ley, made  up  of  "  Uncle  Ned  "  and  "  The  Mermaid." 
The  first  verse  was  as  follows :  — 


THEY   SING   SONGS. 


293 


"  There  was  an  ole  nigger,  and  he  sailed  on  the  sea; 
And  he  lived  not  far  from  ihe  land ; 
And  he  had  no  wool  on  de  top  of  his  head, 
And  a  comb  and  a  glass  in  his  hand. 

Chorus. 
"  0,  the  sto-o-o-o-o-o-o-ormy  winds,  how  they  blow! 
So  take  up  de  shubbel  an'  de  hoe, 
While  we  poor  sailor-boys  are  elimbin'  up  aloft. 
He  has  gone  whar  de  good  niggers  go  — 'gers  go  —  'gers  go  — 
He  has  gone  whar  de  good  niggers  go." 

This  astonishing  production  was  sung  with  un- 
common  energy  and  spirit.  At  its  close  Bart 
retired  below,  while  the  others  went  on  singing; 
and  after  a  short  time  he  returned  with  a  piece  of 
paper  in  his  hand,  and  a  triumphant  smile  on  his 
face. 

"  Hallo,  Bart !  what  have  you  got  there  ?  "  cried 
Bruce. 

"  It's  an  original  song,"  said  Bart. 
"  By  whom  ?  " 

"Myself,"  he  replied,  meekly. 
"  Hurrah  !     Go  it !     Sing  it !     Give  it  to  us  !  " 
''  All  right ;    but  you  must  all  join  in  the  cho- 
rus." 

"  Of  course.     What's  the  tune  ?  " 

" '  Auld  Lang  Syne.'  " 

"  Go  ahead,  then,  young  feller  !  Propel !  Shoot 
away  !     Ready  —  present  —  fire  !  " 

Waiting  for  the  noise  to  subside,  Bart  stood  in 
the  midst  of  them,  and  after  the  cries  had  ceased, 
he  began : — 


ill 


f 


I'  i  t 


i  ! 


I  I 
I  I 


W  I;   ,.J 

■  is  i,  -i 


294  THE  B.  o.  w.  c. 

"  Should  Capting  Corbet  bo  forgot, 
A-sailin'  o'er  the  sea ! 
O,  no  !  wlien  we  get  back  to  school, 
We'll  often  think  of  he. 

Chorus. 

"  We'll  often  think  of  he,  my   riends ; 
We'll  often  think  of  he. 
O,  yes !  when  we  get  back  to  school, 
We'll  often  think  of  he." 

''What's  that?"  cried  Captain  Corbet,  witli  a 
smile  of  pleasure  wreathing  his  venerable  lace. 
'^  Why,  it  ain't  —  why,  railly  —  why,  it  is  me,  too! 
Why,  railly  !  An'  you  made  up  all  that  ?  Wal, 
now,  I  call  that  rale  cute.  I  do,  railly.  On'y  I  do 
wish,  sense  you  did  take  the  trouble  to  make  up 
that  there,  —  bein'  as  your  hand  wjis  in,  —  1  wish 
you'd  kinder  added  a  line  interriducin'  the  babby. 
We  liko  to  be  kind  o'  onseparable.  It  seems  kind 
of  agin  natur'  to  separate  us." 

"  All  right.  I'll  introduce  anything,"  said  Bart. 
'"  Here,  boys,  I'll  give  you  another  chorus. 

'  We'll  often  think  of  he,  my  friends ; 
We'll  often  think  of  he ; 
The  capting  and  his  schewner  gay, 
Likewise  his  small  ba-be-e-e-e-e.' " 

This  new  impromptu  chorus  was  sung  with  still 
greater  enthusiasm.  Captain  Corbet  was  affected 
to  tears.  Emotion  overpowered  him.  As  soon  as 
he  could  muster  strength  to  speak,  he  exclaimed;  — 


BAUTS   SONG. 


295 


"You've  onnianned  me  —  you  have,  railly.  The 
meution  of  that  blessed  bahhy  kind  o'  took  away 
all  my  strength.  But  I'll  reward  you,  hoys.  When 
we  get  baek,  I'll  make  you  all  eome  up,  and  intro- 
duce you  all  to  the  babby  himself,  — «c'A//c/iyy/e  when 
the  old  W07nan\'i  away,  you,  ''^now^^  he  added,  mys- 
teriously. 

"  I  will  now  occupy  the  time  by  continuing  the 
hymn,"  said  Bart,  solemnly.  Whereupon  he  pro- 
ceeded :  — 


"  I  love  to  go  to  Blomidon, 
Its  beauty  for  to  feel ; 
But  I'd  prefer  a  better  fare 
Than  pork  and  Indian  meal. 

Chorus. 
"  Than  pork  and  Indian  meal,  my  friends ; 
Than  pork  and  Indian  meal  — 
O,  I'd  prefer  a  better  fare 
Than  pork  and  Indian  meal." 

This  was  sung  earnestly  and  with  very  deep  feel- 
ing. The  recollection  of  their  melancholy  condi- 
tion caused  a  mild  pathos  to  be  infused  into  the 
tones  of  all.  Some  of  them  seemed  to  be  shedding 
tears.  At  any  rate,  they  held  handkerchiefs  to 
their  eyes. 

The  next  verse  :  — 


II'  ii 


I  love  to  sail  on  Minas  Bay, 

Its  beauty  for  to  see ; 
To  hunt  for  elams  among  the  sands, 

And  put  them  into  me. 


li 


«! 


|i      . 


I  w  ■ 


296  THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 

Chorus. 

**  And  put  thorn  into  me,  my  friends ; 
And  put  tlic'in  into  me. 
To  hunt  for  chima  among  the  sands, 
And  put  tlicm  into  me." 

Tho  mild  molanclioly  that  characterized  the  last 
chorus  here  changed  into  a  livelier  note,  expressive 
of  greater  cheerfulness. 

The  next  verse :  — 


i 


i 


f.    1 


"  Pratt's  Cove  it  has  tlie  biggest  clams 
That  ever  mortal  saw  ; 
But  when  we  hunt  for  clams  again, 
We  mustn't  eat  them  raw. 

Chorus. 

♦'  We  mustn't  eat  tiiem  raw,  my  friends ; 
We  nmstn't  swallow  tliem  raw. 
O,  clams  are  good  for  human  food. 
But  we  mustn't  eat  them  raw." 

This  was  sung  energetically,  yet  in  a  dignified 
manner.  The  chorus  was  intended  to  convey  a 
wholesome  piece  of  advice  to  those  who  might 
happen  to  be  in  need  of  it,  —  Pat,  for  instance, — 
and  so  it  was  sung  with  dignity  ;  at  the  same  time, 
the  energy  with  which  it  was  rendered  was  admi- 
rably ad-ipted  to  enforce  the  advice  and  carry  it 
home  to  tlie  heart  and  conscience  of  the  hearer. 

The  next  verse  :  — 


■t 
If 


"  We've  got  molasses  for  our  food, 
It  came  from  Tri-ni-dad; 
And  when  to  candy  it  is  boiled, 
It  reallv  isn't  bad. 


i-t! 


il 


Bart's  son(;.  297 

Chorus. 

"  It  really  isn't  bad,  my  friends ; 
It  isn't  very  bad. 
Molasses,  boiled,  to  cand^  turns, 
And  really  isn't  bad." 

A  greater  degree  of  liveliness  prevailed  here  at 
the  celebration  of  the  only  eatahle  thing  among 
the  stores.  There  was  an  intention  to  do  honor  to 
the  molasses,  and  honor  was  accordingly  done. 

The  next  verse  :  — 

"  Three  cheers  for  Bogud,  Billyniack, 
Three  cheers  for  all  the  crew,  — 
For  Jiggins,  Sammy,  Muckle,  Pat, 
And  three  for  Johnny  Blue ! 

Chorus. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Johnny  Blue,  my  friends, 
Three  cheers  for  Johnny  Blue,  — 
For  Jiggins,  Sammy,  Muckle,  Tat, 
And  three  for  Johnny  Blue !  " 

Immense  enthusiasm.  Surprise  on  the  part  of 
all  the  boys  whose  names  were  thus  so  unexpect- 
edly "  wedded  to  song."  Recovering  from  their 
surprise,  each  one  jumped  up,  placed  his  hand  on 
his  heart,  and  acknowledged  the  compliment  l)y  a 
low  bow ;  after  which  the  song  was  sung  again ; 
after  which  there  came  more  bows ;  and  it  would 
have  gone  on  thus,  with  alternate  bowing  and  sing- 
ing, till  the  present  time,  had  not  the  boys  them- 
selves felt  overpowered,  and  demanded  another 
verse. 


I'-'j^'  i' 


298 


THE   B.   0.    W.   C. 


The  next  verse :  — 

*'  Throe  clicors  for  all  tlio  boys  on  board ; 
For  Corhi't  three  times  three; 
And  tliirty  more  for  tlie  jolly  black  flag 
Of  the  '  B.  O.  W.  C ! 

CnoRijg. 

"  The  '  B.  O.  W.  C,  my  friends, 
The  «B.  O.  W.  C 
Ever  so  many  more  for  the  jolly  black  flag 
Of  tlie  '  B.  O.  W.  C:  !  " 

TIlis  last  chorus  wua  sung  with  a  veliemencc,  an 
ardor,  and  an  entliusiasm  that  are  absohitely  in- 
describable. It  included  all,  and  identified  all,  in 
the  most  delicate  manner,  with  the  '•  B.  0.  W.  C." 
It  was  sung  over  and  over,  and  over  yet  again, 
accomi)anied  with  any  quantity  of  cheers  for  every- 
thing under  the  sun.  The  special  allusion  to  Cor- 
bet, in  the  last  verse,  elicited  a  fresh  display  of 
emotion  from  that  venerable  and  highly-impressible 
party.  He  did  not  say  much,  however.  He  merely 
went  round  among  the  boys,  and  shook  hands  most 
warmly  with  all  of  them,  one  by  one.  He  asked 
each  one  about  his  father,  his  mother,  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  his  uncles  and  aunts.  He  asked 
their  full  names,  their  ages,  and  the  number  of 
their  blood  relations.  He  then  made  a  public  ad- 
dress to  them,  in  which  he  freely  offered,  at  any 
time,  to  take  any  of  them,  or  all  of  them,  on  a  cruise 
anywhere,  at  a  moment's  warning.      Finally,   he 


"  sv 


N'KJFIT    AT   SEA. 


21)9 


rcitoratcnl  liis  ofTcr  to  iiitrodurc  )iis  l)abl)y  to  tlicin 
all.  This  I'orimMl  a  climax.  Beyond  this  ho  could 
not  go.  And  there,  naturally  and  inevitably,  his 
ehxpient  oration  ended. 

So  passed  the  time.  And  when  you  take  into 
consideration  the  solemn  fact  that  all  this  time  they 
were  drifting,  that  the  sea  was  smooth,  that  there 
wasn't  a  breath  of  wind,  that  there  was  no  pros- 
pect of  getting  home,  or  anywhere  else,  for  that 
matter,  —  you  "will  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
these  boys  were  jolly  under  creditable  circum- 
stances. And  you  will  be  right  in  that  conclu- 
sion ;  for  it  was  in  the  very  face  of  calms,  strong 
tides,  empty  larders,  wanderings  at  sea,  famine,  and 
privations  of  {ill  kinds,  that  these  boys  stood  up 
and  sang  their  song. 

In  this  sense  it  became  not  a  mere  song  of  jol- 
lity or  of  idle  sport.  It  was  more.  It  was  the 
song  of  the  unconquered  soul.  It  was  a  defiance 
hurled  full  in  the  face  of  Fortune. 

The  evening  passed.  The  shades  of  night  came 
down.  It  was  dark,  and  it  grew  darker.  Until 
late,  the  sounds  of  song,  of  laughter,  and  of  mer- 
riment, came  forth  and  resounded  through  the 
night.  At  length  all  was  still.  All  on  board  had 
descended  to  their  couches,  and  were  wrapped  in 
profound  slumber. 

The  boy  who  awaked  first  in  the  morning 
gave  such  a  shout  that  all  the  others  were  roused 
at  once. 


ill 


300 


THE   B.    O.   W.    C. 


M.  I 


Wliat  was  it? 

What !  An  instant  told  them  all.  Down  through 
the  hatchway  there  came  a  blast  of  wind  strong 
and  cool,  and  i'ull  of  sea  salt.  Above,  they  could 
see  the  sail  distended  to  its  utmost,  while  higher 
up  the  clouds  were  scudding  across  the  sky.  Be- 
low, the  vessel  was  lying  far  over,  as  it  yielded  to 
the  wind ;  and  her  pitching  and  tossing,  together 
with  the  dash  of  waves  against  her  bows,  told  all 
that  she  was  moving  swiftly  through  t'.e  water. 

They  hurried  up  to  the  deck. 

Far  around  them  was  the  blue  sea,  now  tossing 
into  white-capped  waves.  A  fresh,  strong  wind 
was  blowing  over  the  water,  and  it  was  lair.  On 
the  right  rose  Blomidon  from  out  the  foam  that 
gathered  at  its  base ;  on  the  left  the  water  ex- 
tended till  it  was  lost  in  the  distance  amid  the 
haze  that  hung  over  the  low-lying  shore.  Behind 
them  lay  the  Five  Islands,  and  all  that  water  over 
which  they  had  so  long  been  drifting.  The  vessel 
was  heading  straight  to  Grand  Pre,  and  was  tear- 
ing her  way  through  the  water  as  she  had  never 
done  before  within  the  experience  of  any  of  her 
present  passengers. 

Joy  reigned  supreme.  Loud  cheers  and  cries 
of  delight  burst  forth. 

"  Why,  captain,"  said  Bart,  "  I  began  to  think 
that  the  Antelope  couldn't  sail  at  all." 

"  Can't  she,  though  ?  0,  she  isn't  a  bad  sailor 
when  she's  got  a  wind  dead  fair  like  this." 


HUME   IN   SIGHT. 


301 


"  Wliun'll  wo  ^rot  to  (Jiiiiid  IVo?" 
"  NVul,  tliut'H  dilliciilt  to  say,"  said  the  captain, 
tlioii^^litl'iilly. 

"  Wliy,  you  don't  moan  to  say  that  tlioro  is  any 
danger  of  the  wind  stoi)i>in';"  now,  or  clianging?" 

"0,  no;  thero's  no  danger  ol'  tliat.'' 

"Well,  what  is  there?" 

"  Why,  wo  can't  get  to  the  wharf." 

"Why  not?" 

"  It'll  1)0  low  tide  when  we  get  there." 

'•Low  tide!"  repeated  Bart,  in  consternation; 
"and  how  far  will  we  he  from  the  wharf?" 

"0,  miles;  and  that  isn't  the  worst  of  it. 
You'll  have  the  Cornwallis  River  between  you 
and  Grand  Pre." 

Bart  said  no  more,  but  retired  to  convey  this 
disheartening  intelligence  to  his  comj)anions. 
They  talked  over  it  thoughtfully  and  with  serious 
faces. 

The  vessel  went  on.  The  tide  was  against 
them,  but  the  wind  was  strong  and  fair,  and  blew 
with  undiminishing  power.  Looking  toward  the 
shore,  they  could  see  that  their  progress  was  ex- 
cellent. 

Nearer  they  came,  and  nearer,  until  at  last  they 
saw  before  them  a  vast  extent  of  mud  flats,  beyond 
which  lay  a  low  ridge  all  green  with  verdure  ;  and 
they  knew  it  as  the  dike  of  Grand  Pre.  Beyond 
this  again  ascended  the  hills,  with  the  white  village 
at  the  base,  and  on  the  slope  the  conspicuous  form 


I  .1 


mm 


\.M 


;.-f 


I  . 

i'V 


.1  » ;  1 : 

nil 


Y' ■'■■  ; 


, 


■ 


i! 

'   ^M    ' 

302 


THE  \i.  o.  vv.  c. 


of  tlio  Acsidoiny,  with  its  Jjioiul  portico  and  lolly 
cupola. 

"  WJioro  ar(3  you  ^oiii^  now,  c.iptaiii?  You 
can't  anc'lior.  Is  tiicre  a  port  hero  to  run  tlio 
Hchoontir  inlo?" 

<'  Nary  {)ort." 

"Wliat'll  you  doV  Surely  you  won't  drift  oil' 
again?  " 

'vDrift?     No,  .sir." 

'MIow  will  you  nianaf^o?" 

"How?  Why,  there's  only  one  thing  to  do;  and 
that  isj  to  run  her  right  straight  in  on  to  a  mud 
flat." 

As  he  spok(!,  he  looked  steadily  forward,  and 
gave  tlui  tiller  a  f)ull  to  starboard.  TIk;  schooner 
turned  slightly.  '^Phe  next  instant  it  ran  scpian^ly 
upon  the  mud  Hat,  and  stuck  there,  hard  and  fast. 


m 


i  -H 


fi 


i-  i 


PI 


■ii 


A    NEW   IDEA. 


aoa 


X  X 1 1 1 . 

A  wild  UiKJcrftikuKj.  —  A  Race  for  Life.  —  The  lost 
Hooi.  —  Tin'  Qiurk.s<mdn.  —  Tin-  Isle  if  S<feh/. — 
The  Mad  Gulch.  —  Crossitu/  the  Ahf/s.s  <f  Mud. 
—  Bruce\s  Doldrum.  —  Two  forlorn,  Fu/ure.s.  — 
Jidjdurous  IVclcome.  —  /Sjteech  bj  the  Grand,  Pan- 
jaudrum. 


WVaWVi  tli(!y  wer(!  on  the  mud  (iut.  It  wjis  ;i 
silinition  in  which  the;  I?.  ().  VV.  i).  liud  h(!oii 
hd'ort!,  hut  (!Xp(M-ion(;o  had  n(;t  nuuhj  it  uny 
tlio  rnoro  [)h!iisunt  to  tluiin. 

'^  Wo'vo  doiK!  it  Ix'lorc,"  Kiiid  J]nic(!/^  and  wliy 
sh()ul(hi't  vvc  do  it  a^-Jtiii  ?" 

"So  1  say/'  rciriarkcid  Artliur. 

*^  It's  a  ^Tc^at  deal  liirthcr,"  said  Phil,  "  hiil  in  iny 
opinion  it  isn't  hali'so  l)ad  as  the  oth<M-  on(\" 

"  01"  course  it  isn't,"  said  Tom.  "The  tich;  is 
leaving  ns  rapidly,  ami  we'll  h(!  al»l(^  to  jumj»  out 
ii[)on  the  mud,  and  not  up  to  our  luicks  in  wattu-,  as 
we  did  tlie  last  tinu;." 

"  And  so  we  needn't  proj)!ire  to  fight  with 
phovel-mouth   sharks,"   said    IMiil. 

"Tile   fact   is,"  said   iJart,  "it's   going  to   I)e   a 


304 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


*Bul' 


H  '■ 


difficult  job,  and  harder  than  the  hist  one,  perhaps. 
We've  got  a  couple  of  miles  to  go,  instead  of  so 
many  hundred  yards.  We  must  face  that  fact  be- 
fore leaving." 

"  We  know  that  very  well,"  said  Phil. 

"  You  see  there  is  Grand  Pr^  just  in  front  of  us." 

''Yes." 

''  Well,  we  can't  go  there,  because  between  us 
and  that  place  is  the  Cornwallis  River,  which  just 
now  is  an  abyss  of  mud,  with  a  strong  stream  run- 
ning at  the  bottom.  So  we'll  have  to  make  an 
angle,  and  go  up  there  toward  the  right,  and  go  in 
a  straight  line  to  Cornwallis  l^ridge.  It  will  be 
two  miles  to  the  grass  land,  and  another  one  to  the 
bridge.     So  we'll  have  two  miles  of  mud." 

"  I  don't  believe  the  mud  is  an>  different  from 
what  we  found  in  the  other  place." 

''  It  may  not  be,"  said  Bruce,  "  yet  there  may 
be  air-holes.  We've  got  so  far  to  go  that  we  may 
find  almost  anything  —  air-holes,  quicksands,  or 
anything  else.  Still,  I  don't  believe  that  we'll 
meet  with  any." 

"  Well,  let's  wait  till  the  tide  gets  down  to  the 
bows,  and  then  start,"  said  Tom. 

With  this  the  boys  prepared  for  their  journey. 
These  preparations  consisted  in  nothing  but  get- 
ting some  stout  sticks,  which  they  made  by  split- 
ting up  a  board,  and  smoothing  each  piece  with  a 
knife.  After  this  they  informed  Mr.  Simmons  of 
their  intention.  He  looked  aghast,  and  then  told 
them  that  they  would  get  too  muddy. 


CAPTAIN   CORBET    REMONSTRATES. 


305 


At  this  they  laughed,  and  said  that  they  were 
covered  with  iiiud  from  their  many  e>:i>erience8  in 
the  voyage,  and  couldn't  be  niucli  worse.  So  Mr. 
►Simmons  looked  at  thcni  from  head  to  foot,  and 
then  at  himself.  By  this  he  discovered  that  the 
boys  were  in  a  comfortably  muddy  condition,  and 
what  was  more,  tliat  he,  Mr.  Simmons,  he  himself, 
was  decorated  with  many  nuid  marks,  wiiicli  sadly 
marred  tlie  beauty  of  his  black  attire.  This  dis- 
covery filled  him  with  such  horror  that  he  hurried 
below,  where  the  sound  of  a  brush  in  violent  exer- 
cise showed  the  boys  that  he  was  trying  to  eradi- 
cate the  stains,  so  as  to  j)repare  himself  for  a  sol- 
emn entry  into  the  village.  He  did  not  appear  on 
deck  again. 

Captain  Corbet,  however,  on  learning  their  j)ro- 
posal,  had  much  more  to  say  about  it. 

He  listened  with  staring  eyes,  and  then  declared 
that  they  all  were  crazy. 

*'  Crazy  ?  Why,  ye're  mad  as  March  hares  1  Do 
ye  know  that  that  there  mud  is  full  of  air-holes,  an' 
inhospitable  for  man  an'  beast  ?  Horses  air  lost 
there  every  year.  So  air  keows  likewise.  People 
shun  it.  Death  lurks  there.  I  wouldn't  go  there 
for  all  the  gold  in  Californy  There's  quicksands, 
and  there's  air-pots,  and  there's  holes  of  all  kinds, 
there's  deep  gulps  that  you  can't  cross  no  how." 

"  But  did  you  ever  hear  of  an  accident  ?  " 

"  Course  I  have.    My  fcytfier  told  me  oust  about 
a  neighbor  of  his'n  that  lost  a  friend  down  her#« 
^0 


^■■■■1 


30G 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


-i 


abouts.  ITe  was  found  next  clay  lyinj:^  on  the  Blioro 
lip  tliore — thrown  up  by  the  tide.  Besides,  my 
wife's  ma  told  me  of  peoi)le  tliat's  been  a-missin'. 
a;i'  what  it's  strongly  suspected  tliat  they  kind  o' 
strayed  down  here,  and  got  drownded.  What  d'ye 
say  to  that  ?  " 

"  0,  it's  all  tlie  same.  There  are  five  of  us. 
We'll  help  one  another." 

'^  Ah,  ye'll  help  one  another  !  Yes,  but  to  sartin 
ruination.  Wliy,  see  here.  Look  at  me.  I'm  more 
anxious,  a  hundred  times,  to  get  asliore  than  you 
be.  I'm  a  feyther.  I've  got  a  pinin'  babby  that  I'm 
a-yearnin'  after.  I've  got  a  kind  of  homesick  feel- 
in',  that  never  leaves  me,  arter  him ;  'ee  bessed 
chicken,  so  it  "was  !  But  do  I  go  an'  resk  my 
life  ?  Do  I  throw  myself  away  ?  Do  I  walk  over 
quicksands,  an'  air-holes,  an'  mud  gullies  ?  Not  I. 
I  stand  here  like  a  man,  an'  wait." 

"  All  right,  captain ;  we'll  tell  them  you're  com- 
in',"  said  Bart,  stepping  to  the  bows. 

By  this  time  the  tide  had  lowered,  so  that  they 
could  get  out  from  the  vessel  on  the  mud.  One 
by  one  they  descended.  They  found  the  mud  soft, 
of  course,  but  not  very  much  so. 

''  0,  boys,"  cried  Captain  Corbet,  "  come  back  !  " 

''  All  right !  "  cried  Bruce.  ''  Come,  boys,  if  we 
stand,  we'll  stick  in  the  mud.     Hurry  along  !  " 

''  Bo-o-oys  I  come  back,"  wailed  Captain  Corbet. 
"  If  you  get  harmed,  1  cau't  follow  you  to  help 
you." 


A    WALK    IN    THE   MUD. 


307 


my 


"  Good  by." 

"  Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oys  !  O,  Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oys  !  " 
wailed  Captain  Corbet,  for  the  last  time,  as  the 
boys  went  off.  But  this  time  they  ^-ave  no  re- 
sponse. He  stood  in  silence,  wateiiing-  them,  for 
a  long,  long  time,  with  deep  anxiety.  The  other 
boys  also  looked  after  them  with  not  a  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  any  of  tliem  but  that  they  would  come 
back. 

Meanwhile  the  boys  walked  on  upon  their  dan- 
gerous way. 

Perhaps  their  very  ignorance  of  that  danger 
saved  them  from  it.  They  walked  on  in  a  straight 
line,  knowing  nothing  of  places  which  the  people 
about  believed  to  be  dangerous  ;  and  as  they  found 
the  outset  easy,  they  expected  all  the  rest  would 
be  the  same.  The  mud  was  like  that  which  they 
had  met  with  before  —  soft  at  the  surface,  but 
hard  beneath,  so  that  they  sank  in  a  little  distance 
at  every  step,  but  nevertheless  found  a  firm  foot- 
hold. The  mud  was  so  soft,  and  the  foothold  be- 
neath so  firm,  that  their  feet  were  not  very  badly 
clogged.  They  did  not  find  it  so  difficult  as  walk- 
ing over  clay  roads  after  they  had  been  soaked 
with  rains,  and  cut  up  by  heavy  teams. 

They  walked  on  rapidly,  in  as  straight  a  lino  as 
possible,  laughing  and  shouting,  declaring  that  mud 
fiats  were  slandered,  and  that  there  was  much  worse 
walking  on  many  a  country  road. 

At  length  the  mud  grew  softer,  and  the  bottom 


308 


THE   B.   0.   W.   C. 


was  not  so  near  tlie  surface.  To  walk  over  this^ 
even  at  a  rapid  pace,  was  difficult;  for  where  the 
foot  was  planted  at  full  length,  it  Avould  sink  so 
that  it  was  difficult  to  extricate  it.  A  swifter  pace 
was  necessary. 

"  Are  you  tired,  Phil  ?  "  asked  Bruce. 

"  No,"  said  Phil ;  and,  indeed,  he  seemed  as  fresh 
as  any  of  them. 

"  Because  we'll  have  to  go  faster,"  said  Bruce. 
"  Come,  now,  boys  —  Indian  trot !  " 

Away  they  went  at  the  peculiar  pace  known  by 
that  name,  —  the  body  bent  forward,  and  the  fore 
part  of  the  foot  touching  the  ground  with  its  elas- 
tic tread,  moving  at  that  slow,  steady,  easy  trot 
which  is  faster  and  lighter  than  a  walk,  and  but 
little  more  fatiguing  to  those  who  have  the  knack 
of  it.  This  carried  them  on  very  well  for  some 
considerable  distance  farther,  and  on  looking  back 
they  began  to  congratulate  themselves  on  the  dis- 
tance which  they  had  already  traversed.  Ere  long 
the  grass-covered  marsh  was  within  sight  —  the 
place  where  danger  ended,  and  progress  was  easier. 
But  between  them  and  that  place  there  still  lay  dif- 
ficulties which  they  knew  not  of. 

Suddenly  as  they  ran  on,  they  were  arrested  by 
a  cry  from  Phil.  They  turned  instantly,  and  were 
horrified  at  the  sight  that  met  their  eyes.  Phil, 
being  the  smallest  and  weakest,  had  fallen  behind, 
and,  being  out  of  breath,  had  loitered  a  few  paces 
80  as  to  recover,  thinking  that  he  would  catch  up. 


PHIL    IX    DANGER. 


309 


Feeling  a  pain  in  his  side,  he  harl  stopped  to  fasten 
his  belt  tighter  around  his  waist,  and  without  tliink- 
ing  he  had  stood  motionless  for  a  minute.  In  that 
minute  his  feet  had  sunk  in  the  treacherous  soil. 
In  his  sudden  fright  at  this  discovery,  he  had  cried 
out,  and  made  a  desperate  effort  to  extricate  him- 
self With  a  jerk  he  had  drawn  fortli  one  foot,  but 
the  other  had  sunk  in  up  to  his  knee.  And  tliis 
was  the  position  in  which  he  stood  when  the  others 
turned. 

Another  minute  and  they  were  by  his  side,  pull- 
ing at  him.  But  as  they  pulled,  each  one  found 
himself  sinking. 

"  Here,  boys,  this  won't  do,"  cried  Bart.  "  Phil, 
give  me  your  hand.  Boys,  form  a  line  behind  me, 
one  after  another.  Now  let's  catch  hold  of  one 
another.  Now,  let's  keep  moving  backward  and 
forward,  quickly,  so  as  not  to  stand  still.  Now, 
then,  pull ! " 

Backward  and  forward  the  line  of  boys,  thus 
rapidly  formed,  went  swaying,  pulling  Phil  as  tliey 
did  so.  The  clinging  mud  yielded,  and  Phil  was 
slowly  dragged  fortli.  But  his  boot  was  left  be- 
hind. 

''Never  rnind  the  boot,"  cried  Bart.  "Come  on 
as  you  are,  —  one  shoe  off,  and  the  other  one  on,  tol 
de  rol  de  rido,  my  son  John  !  Hurrah !  Phil,  go 
ahead  of  me,  and  I'll  guard  the  rear." 

All  this  time,  while  Bart  was  speaking,  they 
were  running  on,  Phil  limping  with  his  booted  and 
bootless  feet. 


310 


THE  B.  0.  w.  c. 


""'V 


ill 


'' Ncvor  iniiHl,  Pliil  !  we'll  soon  get  to  a  place 
where  you  can  take  off  the  other  boot,"  said  Bart, 
encouragingly. 

And  now  began  the  tug.  Their  run  liad  been  a 
long  one,  and  their  exertions  excessive.  All  of 
them  were  out  of  breath,  and  panting  heavily. 
The  distance  still  l)efore  them  was  great;  but 
they  dared  not  stop  ;  they  dared  not  even  pause  for 
an  instant,  or  slacken  their  progress  in  any  degree. 
Phil  was  most  exhausted,  but  he  toiled  on  with 
desperate  exertions.  The  memory  of  his  lost  boot 
showed  him  his  danger.  That  boot  left  behind  re- 
mained as  a  terror,  which  drove  him  on. 

On  and  still  on.  Fainter  grew  the  boys,  but 
they  dared  not  stop.  All  of  them  were  panting, 
and  lalxu'ing  heavily,  but  no  relief  was  near.  Far 
off  still  lay  the  marsh  with  its  grass  —  a  fearful  dis- 
tance to  those  so  exhausted,  and  still  compelled  to 
labor  so  hard. 

"  I  dt)n't  know  how  much  longer  I  can  stand 
this,"  gasped  Tom. 

"  You  must  stand  it !  Don't  stop,  for  your  life  !  " 
cried  Bruce. 

The  others  said  nothing.  To  speak  would  be 
but  to  waste  their  precious  breath,  wdiicli  they 
were  losing  only  too  rapidly. 

On  and  on.  Still  the  soft  mud  lay  beneath  them, 
and  an  awful  fear  came  to  some  of  them  that  it  was 
getting  softer. 

The  fear  was  soon  realized. 


»5  'r  a  ' 


ALL    TN    DAN(;i;i{. 


311 


Softer  and  softer  it  grew,  and  deeper  sank  tlieir 
feet.  Had  this  place  only  been  fonnd  at  an  eai'licr 
period,  they  could  have  returned,  or  they  woidd 
have  Lad  strength  to  struggle  on;  but  now  it  came 
in  the  hour  of  their  extreniest  (exhaustion.  It  was 
a  hollow  in  the  mud,  somewhat  lower  than  the  sur- 
rounding surface. 

"  We  can't  go  through  this,"  said  Bruce;  and  he 
pointed  to  the  centre  of  the  hollow,  which  looked 
fearfully  soft  and  liquid.  "  Let's  go  around  it ; "' 
and  turning  rapidly,  he  started  off  toward  the  right. 
The  boys  said  nothing.  They  floundered  deej)  in 
the  mud,  they  panted,  they  gasped,  they  moaned 
in  the  despairing  efibrts  which  they  made. 

"  I'll  lie  down,"  gasped  Phil.  ''  I —  won't — 
sink  —  " 

'^On,  on!  Never!  We'll  all  have  to  die  if 
you  stop." 

These  words  came  from  Bart,  who,  exhausted  as 
he  was,  caught  Phil's  arm,  and  dragged  him  o!i. 

At  that  moment  Tom  fell. 

"  It's  all  up  with  me,  boys,"  he  moaned.  ^'  Leave 
me.     Save  yourselves." 

Bruce  said  nothing.  lie  snatched  him  up  out 
of  the  mud,  and  pulled  him  along,  diile  at  this 
fresh  exertion  his  whole  frame  quivered,  and  his 
feet  sank  deeper. 

How  long  could  this  last  ? 

Tom  could  scarcely  keep  his  fGot.  Phil  could 
hardly  keep  upright,  and  move  his  legs.     Arthur 


m)       ^ 


\\-:-\. 


I     ,;' 


IS 

i 

i 

1'  ' 

;,.,;.,. 

■"i' 

ry, . 

i 

#  fii 

ii 

Wi^i 

ir 


1 

|: 

1.l 

1 :  ■ 

1 

iii 

.    k 

312 


THE   B.    O.    W.    C. 


could  })arcly  stiiml)lo  alonj^.  Bart  and  Bruce  boro 
it  host,  and  could  liolp  the  others  stiH. 

But  tor  how  long? 

A  shout  of  joy  came  from  Bruce. 

''  Hurrah  !  Look  there  !  "  ho  oried.  Tom  raised 
himself  by  a  last  eflbrt,  and  turned  his  feeble  eyes 
to  where  Bruce  pointed.  lie  saw,  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, a  green  patch  in  the  mud. 

It  was  marsh  grass  ! 

At  that  instant  all  recognized  it.  The  sight  of 
it  brought  fresh  strength  to  their  despairing  ener- 
gies.  It  gave  new  life  to  Tom  and  Phil.  A  few 
steps  more,  and  the  soft  mud  grew  harder  ;  and 
soon  after  they  were  all  standing  on  the  patch  of 
marsh  grass. 

No  sooner  had  they  reached  this  place,  than 
they  all  tlung  themselves  down  upon  the  mud,  out 
of  which  the  coarse  grass  grew.  For  some  time 
not  a  word  was  spoken.  All  lay  there  breathing 
heavily.  Looking  back,  they  could  see  the  wide 
extent  of  mud  flats  which  they  had  traversed.  The 
schooner  was  far  away,  and  those  on  board  could 
no  longer  be  distinguished.  The  soft  spot  in  which 
they  had  been  wallowing,  and  out  of  which  they 
had  found  their  way,  spread  for  a  great  distance, 
not  only  between  them  and  the  schooner,  but  also 
on  one  side.  Between  them  and  Cornwallis  there 
appeared  to  be  a  firmer  surface,  like  that  which 
they  had  found  on  leaving  the  schooner.  Besides 
this,  there  were  patches  of  grass  interspersed  here 


A   NEW    DIFFICULTY. 


313 


and  there,  like  islands,  in  this  sea  of  mud.  Here 
they  mi^ht  find  resting-i)luc'es  if  they  were  again 
exhausted.  The  spot  on  which  they  lay  was  the 
outermost  of  these. 

They  did  not  hurry  away.  They  needed  a  good 
long  breathing-time,  and  they  took  it.  Phil  took 
off  his  remaining  boot,  declaring  that  if  he  had 
only  got  it  off  before,  he  would  not  have  been  so 
exhausted.  lie  preferred  walking  over  the  mud 
barefoot,  he  said.  This  seemed  to  the  others  a 
good  idea,  and  they  all  took  off  their  boots  and 
stockings,  so  as  to  pass  over  the  mud  more  lightly. 

At  length,  after  about  half  an  hour,  they  all  rose, 
and  resumed  their  journey.  The  mud  spread  away 
before  them ;  and  though  there  were  patches  of 
grass  at  intervals,  yet  the  real  marsh  land  itself 
did  not  come  within  half  a  mile  of  them.  This 
distance  would  have  to  be  tra\^ersed  before  they 
could  reach  the  nearest  verge.  And  now,  keeping 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  Cornwallis  shore,  they 
all  set  out  afresh. 

Their  progress  was  easy,  such  as  it  was  when 
they  first  set  out,  with  this  difference,  that  their 
goal  was  near,  and  resting-places  frequent.  Nearer 
and  nearer  they  came  to  the  marsh  land  ;  nearer 
and  nearer  still,  —  and  now  they  were  close  to 
it,  —  and  now  they  had  just  reached  it,  —  when 
suddenly,  just  as  they  seemed  to  touch  it,  there 
yawned  between  them  and  that  green  inviting  goal 
a  deep  crevice,  the  course  of  some  sea  current,  at 


•\' 


I  i 


'If  I 


n<^\m 


314 


TIIK  n.  o.  w.  c. 


the  bottom  of  wliic'li  trickled,  even  now,  some 
water,  wiiich  probably  came  from  one  of  the 
niimeroiirt  drains  of  the  dike  land  before  them. 
'^I'he  sides  sloped  down  at  an  an^le  of  forty-five 
(h'grees,  and  eonsiste<l  of  the  softest  mud,  which 
schemed  by  its  appearance  ready  to  in<j,ulf  at 
once  any  one  who  might  step  upon  it.  To  cross 
hero  was  impossible.  It  could  not  be  even  ven- 
tured  U])()ll. 

The  ground  at  the  e(lge  was  firm  enough  for 
them  to  stand  and  survey  the  situation.  On  the 
left  the  gully  seenuMl  to  go  toward  the  Cornwallis 
Kiver,  on  the  right  it  seemed  to  approach  the  land. 
Su])posing  that  it  came  from  the  dikes,  and  that 
it  would  grow  narrower  if  they  ascended  in  that 
direction,  they  turned  off  toward  the  right.  They 
found  their  surmise  correct.  After  walking  for  a 
half  mile,  the  gully  had  become  much  narrower, 
and  had  diminished  from  a  width  of  thirty  feet  and 
a  depth  of  twelve,  to  a  width  of  ten  and  a  depth  of 
six.  But  here  they  found  themselves  at  a  fork, 
where  the  gully  that  came  from  the  dike  land 
divided  itself,  (>ne  part  going  toward  the  Corn- 
wallis River,  and  the  other  far  down  through  the 
mud  flat  toward  the  bay.  To  go  around  it,  or  in 
any  way  avoid  it,  was  impossible.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  cross  it  at  all  hazards. 

"  We  must  do  it,  boys,"  said  Bart.  "  So  here 
goes." 

Saying  this,  he  threw  over  his  boots.     Then  he 


.irMIM.\<;    F<)F{    IJF'K. 


ai5 


went  hack  for  some  distance.  Then  he  rushed 
forward,  and  springing  froni  the  ed|2;(»  oi'  the  bank, 
he  shut  through  the  air,  and  hinckMl  on  the  other 
side. 

"  That's  more  than  T  can  do,"  said  Tom.  "  I've 
got  to  wade  it." 

"Korean  I,"  said  Phil 

"  Go  it,  Arthur,"  said  Bruce. 

Arthur  went  hack,  and  took  a  run  like  Hart,  and 
jumpcMh  But  he  fell  two  feet  short.  His  feet 
sank  deep  into  the  soft  mud.  TFc!  struggled  for  a 
moment,  and  falling  iorward,  dug  his  elhows  into 
the  top  of  the  hank.  Bart  seized  him,  and  after 
some  violent  struggles  he  was  free. 

After  this  all  the  boots  were  thrown  over. 
Bruce  encouraged  Phil  and  Tom. 

"  Now,  boys,  go  it.     Pll  wait  here  to  help  you." 

"  But  we  can't  jump." 

"  Arthur  and  I  will  go  down  on  this  side,  and 
Bruce  on  the  other,  and  help  you,"  said  Bart :  and 
he  descended  at  the  same  time,  followed  by  Arthur, 
while  Bruce  descended  the  opposite  side.  Th;ir 
feet  sank  in  for  some  distance,  and  then  found 
bottom. 

Phil  then  went  down,  and  gave  a  wild  leap,  and 
his  feet  just  cleared  the  middle.  For  a  moment  he 
floundered,  but  struggled  onward,  and  caught 
Bart's  hand.  Another  minute,  and  he  was  safe 
over. 

"  Pve  not  got  nnich  strength  left,  boys,"  said 
Tom  ;  ''  but  I'll  do  what  I  can." 


s'  I 


1 1 


316 


THE    B.    0.    W.    C. 


"  Steady  now  —  wait/'  said  Bart,  "  let  me  get  a 
little  farther  down.  Arthur,  give  me  your  hand." 
Saying  this,  Bart  descended  a  little  farther. 

Tom  ran  down,  his  feet  sinking  deep.  Near  the 
middle  he  tried  to  leap  over,  but  his  feet  sank  so 
that  his  leap  failed.  He  fell  short,  and  his  advan- 
cing foot  struck  the  very  middle  of  that  soft  pudding 
in  the  bed  of  the  gully.  He  sank  to  his  middle  at 
once,  struggling,  and  panting,  and  throwing  him- 
self forward.  Deeper  and  deeper  he  sank.  It 
was  an  awful  moment.  At  length  a  last  violent 
effort  brought  him  a  little  nearer.  Bart  dropped 
Arthur's  hand,  and  clutched  that  which  was 
despairingly  outstretched  by  Tom.  At  the  same 
moment  Arthur  caughi  Bart,  and  they  dragged  at 
their  sinking  companion.  For  some  time  they  did 
nothing  toward  extricating  him. 

But  now  with  a  bound  Bruce  had  sprung  across, 
and  hurried  to  their  assistance.  Going  down 
close  by  Bart,  he  caught  Tom's  other  hand.  Tlien, 
with  all  their  strength  united,  they  pulled.  Their 
own  feet  sank  deep,  but  they  thought  not  of  that. 
Tom  was  coming  out.  He  was  out.  Ho  was 
saved  ! 

Drawing  out  their  own  feet  then,  they  helped 
Tom  up  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  and  there  they 
rested  once  more.  Tom  was  not  exhausted,  but 
onlv  weakened,  and  a  few  minutes  were  sufficient 
for  him  to  rally.  So,  without  saying  much  about 
this  last  adventure,  they  resumed  their  jo'^'ney. 


t* 


SAFE   AT    LAST. 


317 


There  lay  tlie  marsh  riglit  before  tliem  at  last. 
There,  too,  not  far  away,  rose  a  dike,  ];eyoii(l  which 
were  the  dike  lands.  Tiieir  perilous  journey  was 
at  last  approaching  an  end.  Soon  they  were  on 
the  marsh,  where  the  coarse  grass  was  now  in  its 
early  spring  growth,  and  not  high  enough  to  im- 
pede their  progress.  A  short  journey  through 
this  brought  them  to  the  dike.  It  was  only  a  few 
feet  in  height.  They  climbed  to  the  top,  and 
looked  around.  There  was  the  Cornwallis  River 
about  half  a  mile  away,  and  there,  farther  up,  the 
bridge  that  crossed  it.  The  coarse  stubble  of  the 
grass  hurt  their  feet,  so  that  they  walked  ak)ng  tiio 
top  of  the  dike  toward  the  river.  This  walk  was 
easy  and  pleasant ;  and  after  their  severe  journey, 
it  was  even  delightful.  In  this  way  they  went  on, 
till  at  last  they  reached  the  bank  of  the  river,  when 
they  turned  and  walked  up  the  edge  toward  the 
bridge. 

At  first  the  bed  of  the  river  was,  as  Bart  had 
said,  a  vast  abyss  of  soft  mud,  through  which  ran  a 
swift  stream,  flowing  at  the  bottom  of  this  abyss ; 
but  as  they  walked  on,  they  came  at  length  to  a 
place  where  the  mud  was  intermixed  with  gravel, 
which  extended  down  to  the  water,  and  up  on  the 
other  side.  Here  Bruce  stopped,  and  looked  down, 
and  then  across. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  the  others. 

"  0,  nothing.  I'm  thinking  about  trying  to 
cross." 


\:     . 


i 


'        1   ;      . 

1.    ■        :     ■    , 

1  /:  ■:  1 

if' -' 

1 

iiji 

■Hllif" 

318 


THE   B.    0.    W.   C. 


"  To  cro8s  !  You'll  never  get  across,"  cried 
Pliil. 

"  Yes/'  said  Bart.  "  It  can  be  done.  I'll  try  it 
if  you  Avill,  Bruce.  You  see  it  isn't  all  soft  mud 
here,  but  the  gravel  goes  down,  and  up  the  other 
side.     I  don't  believe  it's  deep,  either."' 

"  Well,  if  it's  over  our  heads,  we  can  swim  a 
litth 


V 


"  But  see  how  strong  the  current  is,"  said  Tom. 
"  It  will  carry  you  oif." 

"  0,  it  can't  carry  us  far,"  said  Bruce.  "  I'm  in 
for  it.  You  see,  boys,  it's  too  aggravating  to  look 
across  the  river  here,  and  see  the  Academy  close 
by  on  he  other  side,  hardly  more  than  a  mile  or 
so  aw^ay,  and  then  turn  oft*  for  a  four  or  five  mile 
walk  around.  You  fellows  had  better  go  up  to  the 
bridge,  and  get  a  wagon,  and  drive  round.  Bart 
and  I  will  try  it  here,  at  any  rate.  If  we  can't 
get  across,  we'll  follow  you." 

Without  listening  to  any  further  remonstrances, 
Bruce  and  Bart  descended  the  slope.  The  bed 
was  very  wide  and  deep,  tlu)ugh  now  nearly  empty, 
and  they  did  not  know  how  deep  the  water  might 
be  that  ran  there.  They  expected  to  ford  it.  The 
other  boys  stood  on  the  bank  watching  them  with 
intense  interest. 

The  gravel,  mixed  with  mud,  formed  a  good 
footing ;  and  Bruce  and  Bart  stopped  here  for  a 
time,  and  put  their  boots  on,  so  that  if  they  had  to 
swim  they  might  not  be  impeded  with  bundles. 


■nn 


BRUCK'S    DOLDIM'M. 


319 


The  water  was  i-nnnin^-  swiftly  by.  It  seemed 
wider  now  than  it  did  at  the  top  of  the  bank.  But 
they  did  not  hesitate.  In  tliey  went  side  by  side, 
Bruce  on  the  riglit,  and  Bart  below  him  on  the  left. 
The  water  grew  deeper  and  deeper.  It  came  up 
to  their  waists,  then  up  to  their  armpits.  Bart 
could  not  possi])ly  stem  it  a  moment  longer.  He 
was  lifted  from  his  feet,  and  borne  on. 

Those  waiting  at  the  top  of  the  bank  felt  their 
hearts  stop  beating  as  they  looked. 

But  Bart's  head  was  above  water,  and  lie  struck 
out  bravely  for  the  oj)posite  shore.  lie  knew  he 
would  not  have  far  to  swim,  for  he  had  already 
gone  nearly  half  way  when  he  was  swept  off  his 
feet.  The  current  still  bore  him  down,  but  his  own 
efforts  were  dragging  him  to  the  opposite  shore  at 
every  stroke. 

After  Bart  had  lost  his  footing,  Bruce  still  Avalked 
on.  He  held  himself  so  that  he  could  resist  the 
current  to  some  extent.  But  at  last  he,  too,  lost 
his  footing,  and  was  swept  after  Bart.  He  struck 
out  strongly  ;  and  while  carried  down  by  the  cur- 
rent, he,  too,  drew  nearer  the  opposite  shore. 

Bart  had  just  touched  bottom,  and  sprang  up, 
with  the  water  scarce  higher  than  his  waist,  and 
looked  around  for  Bruce.  As  he  looked,  he  caught 
sight  of  Bruce's  Dice.  It  was  turned  toward  him 
in  agony,  close  by  him,  and  but  a  little  behind. 
Two  hands  were  flung  out,  and  with  a  gasp  and  a 
groan  Bruce  sank. 


320 


THE   B.    0.    W.    C. 


For  an  instant  Bart  stood  petrified  with  horror. 
A  wild  thought  of  sharks  flashed  througl  his  mind. 
But  the  next  instant  he  had  grasped  i3ruce,  and 
was  dragging  him  half  fainting,  still  gasping,  out 
of  the  water.  In  a  few  minutes  they  were  on  the 
bank,  where  they  both  sat  down. 

"  It  was  a  —  a  palpitation  —  of  the  —  the  heart," 
gasped  Bruce.  '■'■  I've  felt  —  queer  —  ever  since 
that  —  affair  —  on  the  —  the  cliff." 

"  Yes.  You'll  have  to  keep  quiet,  Bruce,  for 
some  months  to  come.  You  see  you've  been  ex- 
erting yourself  tremendously  to-day,  and  this  last 
thing  has  been  too  much.  You've  got  to  look  out, 
for  a  thing  like  this  is  not  to  be  trifled  with." 

By  this  time  the  other  boys  had  rushed  down, 
and  were  on  the  opposite  side  halloing,  and  asking 
what  was  the  matter. 

''0,  ncching  —  a  doldrum  of  Bruce's,"  cried 
Bart.     "  He's  all  right  now." 

"  All  right !  "  said  Bruce,  lifting  up  his  pale 
face,  and  nodding. 

"  You  hurry  up,  boys,"  said  Bart.  "  Get  a  horse 
at  the  bridge,  and  drive  home." 

Upon  this  the  boys  left,  and  went  to  the  bridge. 

After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  Bruce  felt  able 
to  start.  They  ascended  the  bank  slowly ;  and 
after  reaching  the  dike  land,  they  Avent  across  in  a 
Btraight  line  for  the  Academy.  They  walked 
slowly  at  first,  but  Bruce  regained  his  strength 
more  and  more  at  every  step. 


SOLOMON  SPEAKS. 


321 


At  length  they  readied  the  gateway  of  tlie 
Academy  grounds.  Wet  to  the  skin,  handkerchiefs 
round  their  heads,  with  tlieir  clothes  ragged,  and 
plastered  with  mud  from  head  to  foot,  so  that 
hardly  any  of  the  original  color  was  visible,  these 
two  forlorn  figures  attracted  universal  attention  ; 
and  soon  all  the  small  bovs  were  around  them 
cheering,  and  shouting,  and  asking  about  the 
schooner. 

Out  came  Mr.  Long,  who  had  arrived  the  pre- 
vious evening  without  accident. 

Out  came  Dr.  Porter,  astonishment  in  his  face. 

Out  came  every  inhabitant  of  the  Academy  and 
its  precincts,  all  making  inquiries. 

And,  last  of  all,  out  came  Solomon,  with  an  enor- 
mous white  collar  standing  up  above  his  ears, 
and,  — 

"  0,  de  gracious  !  0,  de  sakes  alive,  now  ! 
What's  dis  dat  dis  ole  nigga  docs  see  !  You  gwino 
away  whar  glory  takes  yoM,  an'  back  agin  to  be  de 
light  of  an  ole  cuss's  life  !  An'  whar's  all  de  rest 
ob  all  dem  bressed  chil'en  ?  0,  dis  do-lightful  day 
an'  hour  !  An'  you  wet  as  el)ber  wet  kin  be  by 
fallin'  in  de  briny  wave  !  Brcss  dis  old  nigga's 
heart  1  but  whar  you  git  all  dat  mud  from  ?  An' 
me  hopin'  an'  prayin'  fur  dis  glorious  time  !  What's 
become  ob  all  de  Wenebble  Breddren  ?  Heah 
comes  de  Wenebble  Patrick,  an'  de  Wenebble 
Wodden,  wid  de  Gran'  Panjvdanderum  in  de 
shinin'  train  !  0,  dis  day  an'  hour  1 " 
21 


322 


THE   B.    0.   W.    C. 


And  witli  cxclumations  like  these,  poured  forth 
with  amazing  vohibility,  Solomon  walked  along 
backward  before  them,  and  his  voice  died  away 
in  the  distance  to  a  prolonged  and  unintelligible 
hubble-bubble. 

About  an  hour  afterward  Arthur,  Phil,  and  Tom 
drove  up,  and  were  received  in  a  very  similar 
manner.  If  tlie  "  B.  ().  W.  ('."  liked  to  create  a 
sensation,  they  certainly  had  reason  to  be  satisfied. 

Mr.  Sinnnons,  with  the  rest  of  the  boys,  did  not 
get  to  the  Academy  till  late  in  the  day. 

But  long  before  that,  in  fact,  at  high  noon,  Solo- 
mon received  the  "  B.  O.  W.  C"  in  the  dining- 
room.  They  had  luxuriated  in  the  bath,  and  Solo- 
mon had  prepared  for  them  the  banquet.  He 
surpassed  himself.  His  genius  had  invented 
new  dishes  expressly  for  the  occasion,  and  the 
"  B.  0.  W.  C."  ate,  and  were  refreshed. 


h  > 


f  1 ;' 


!'!•! 


'ed  forth 
id  along 
ed  away 
'elligiblo 

md  Tom 

similar 

create  a 

satisfied. 

did  not 

m,  SoIg- 
dining- 
nd  Solo- 
it.  He 
ivented 
nd   the 


AMERICAN  BOYS'  SERIES 

Eighty-five  copyright  books  for  boys  by  noted  American 
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thoroughly  American,  by  such  favorite  Ameri- 
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1.  Adrift  in  the  Ice  Fields    By  Capt.  Chas.  W.  Hall 

2.  All  Aboard,  or  Life  on  the  Lake    By  Oliver  Optic 

3.  Ark  of  Elm  Island    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

4.  Arthur  Brown  the  Young  Captain    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

5-  Boat  Club,  The,  or  the  Bunkers  of  Rippleton    By  Oliver  Optic 

6.  Boy  Farmers  of  Elm  Island,  The    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

7.  Boys  of  Grand  Pr6  School    By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

8.  *♦  B.  O.  W.  C,"  The     By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

9.  Brought  to  the  Front,  or  the  Young  Defenders     By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

10.  Burying  the  Hatchet,  or  the  Young  Brave  of  th^  Delawares 

By  Elijah  Kellogg 

11.  Cast  Away  in  the  Cold    By  Dr.  Isaac  I.  Hayes 

12.  Charlie  Bell  the  Waif  of  Elm  Island    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

13.  Child  of  the  Island  Glen    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

14.  Crossing  the  Quicksands    By  Samuel  W.  Cozzens 

15.  Cruise  of  the  Casco    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

16.  Fire  in  the  Woods    By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

17.  Fisher  Boys  of  Pleasant  Cove    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

18.  Forest    Glen,    or    the   Mohawk's    Friendship      By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

19.  Good  Old  Times     By  Elijah  Kellogg 


LEE   AND    SHEPARD   Publishers   BOSTON 


AMERICAN  BOYS*   SERIES  —  Continued 

20.  Hardscrabble  of  Elm  Island    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

21.  Haste  or  Waste,  or  the  Young  Pilot  of  Lake  Champlain 

By  Oliver  Optic 

22.  Hope  and  Have    By  Oliver  Optic 

23.  In  School  and  Out,  or  the  Conquest  of  Richard  Grant    By 

Oliver  Optic 

24.  John  Qodsoe's  Legacy    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

25.  Just  His  Luck    By  Oliver  Optic 

26.  Lion  Ben  of  Elm  Island    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

27.  Little  by  Little,  or  the  Cruise  of  the  Flyaway    By  Oliver 

Optic 

28.  Live  Oak  Boys,  or  the  Adventures  of  Richard  Constable 

Afloat  and  Ashore    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

29.  Lost  in  the  Fog     By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

30.  Mission    of    Black    Rifle,   or    On    the    Trail      By    Elijah 

Kellogg 

31.  Now  or  Never,  or  the  Adventures  of  Bobby  Bright    By 

Oliver  Optic 

32.  Poor  and  Proud,  or  the  Fortunes  of   Kate  Redburn    By 

Oliver  Optic 

33.  Rich  and  Humble,  or  the  flission  of   Bertha  Grant     By 

Oliver  Optic 

34.  Sophomores  of  Radcliffe,or  James  Trafton  and  His  Boston 

Friends    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

35.  Sowed  by  the  Wind,  or  the  Poor  Boy's  Fortune    By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

36.  Spark  of  Genius,  or  the  College  Life  of  James  Trafton    By 

Elijah  Kellogg 

37.  Stout  Heart,  or  the  Student  from  Over  the  Sea    By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

38.  Strong  Arm  and  a  flother's  Blessing    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

39.  Treasure  of  the  Sea    By  Prof.  James  DeMille 

40.  Try  Again,  or  the  Trials  and  Triumphs  of  Harry  West    By 

Oliver  Optic 

41.  Turning  of  the  Tide,  or  Radcliffe  Rich  and  his  Patients    By 

Elijah  Kellogg 

42.  Unseen  Hand,  or  James  Renfew  and  His  Boy  Helpers     By 

Elijah  Kellogg 


LEB  AND   SHEPARD   Publishers  BOSTON 


AMERICAN  BOYS'   SERIES  —  Continued 

43.  Watch  and  Wait,  or  the  Young  Fugitives    By  Oliver  Optic 

44.  Whispering  Pine,  or  the  Graduates  of  Radcliffe    By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

45.  Winning  His  Spurs,  or   Henry  Horton's   First  Trial     By 

Elijah  Kollogc; 

46.  Wolf    Run,    or   the    Boys    of    the    Wilderness     By  Elijah 

Kellogg 

47.  Worl<  and  Win,  or  Noddy  Newman  on  a  Cruise    By  Oliver 

Optic 

48.  Young  Deliverers  of  Pleasant  Cove    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

49.  Young  Shipbuilders  of  Elm  Island    By  Elijah  Kellogg 

50.  Young  Trail  Hunters    By  Samuel  W.  Cozzens 

51.  Field  and  Forest,  or  the  Fortunes  of  a  Farmer     By  Oliver 

Optic 

52.  Outward  Bound,  or  Young  America  Afloat    By  Oliver  Optic 

53.  The  Soldier  Boy,  or  Tom  Somers  in  the  Army    By  Oliver 

Optic 

54.  The  Starry  Flag,  or  the  Young  Fisherman  of  Cape  Ann    By 

Oliver  Optic 

55.  Through  by  Daylight,  or  the  Young  Engineer  of  the  Lake 

Shore  Railroad    By  Oliver  Optic 

56.  Cruises  with  Captain  Bob  around  the  Kitchen  Fire    By  B.  P. 

Shillabcr  (Mrs.  Partington) 

57.  The  Double-Runner  Club,  or  the  Lively  Boys  of  Rivertown 

By  B.  P.  Shillabcr  (Mrs.  Partington) 

58.  Ike  Partington  and  His  Friends,  or  the  Humors  of  a  Human 

Boy     By  B.  P.  Shillaber  (Mrs.  Partington) 

59.  Locke  Amsden  the  Schoolmaster    By  Judge  D.  P.  Thompson 

60.  The  Rangers     By  Judge  D.  P.  Thompson 

61.  The  Green  Mountain  Boys    By  Judge  D,  P.  Thompson 

62.  A  Missing  Million,  or  the  Adventures  of  Louis  Belgrave 

By  Oliver  Optic 

63.  A  Millionaire  at  Sixteen,  or  the  Cruise  of  the  **  Guardian 

Mother ' '     By  Oliver  Optic 

64.  A  Young  Knight  Errant,  or  Cruising  in  the  West  Indies 

By  Oliver  Optic 

65.  Strange  Sights  Abroad,  or  Adventures  in  European  Waters 

By  Oliver  Optic 


LEE   AND    SHEPARD    Publishers  BOSTON 


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AMERICAN  BOYS*   SERIES  —  Continued 


NEW  TITLES  ADDED  IN    1902 

66.  Facing  the  Enemy    The  Life  of  Gen.  Wm.  Tecumseh  Sher 

man     By  P.  C.  Ileatlley 

67.  Fight  It  Out  on  This  Line    The  Life  and  Deeds  of  Qen. 

U.  S.  Grant     By  P.  C.  Ileadlcy 

68.  Fighting  Phil    The  Life  of  Gen.  Philip  Henry  Sheridan    By 

P.  C.  Ikadlcy 

69.  Old  Salamander    The  Life  of  Admiral  David  G.  Farragut 

By  P.  C.  Ileadley 

70.  Old  Stars    The  Life  of  Gen.  Ormsby  M.  nitchell    By  P.  C. 

Ileadlcy 

71.  The  niner  Boy  and  His  ilonitor    The  Career  of  John  Erics- 

son, Engineer    By  P.  C.  Headley 

72.  The  Young  Silver  Seekers     By  Samuel  W.  Cozzens 

73.  Drake  the  Sea  King  of  Devon     By  George  Makepeace  Towle 

74.  riagellan,  or  the  First  Voyage  around  the  World    By  George 

Makepeace  Towle 

75.  riarco  Polo,  His  Travels  and  Adventures     By  George  Make- 

peace Towle 

76.  PIzarro,  His  Adventures  and  Conquests     By  George  Make- 

peace Towle 

77.  Raleigh,  His  Voyages  and  Adventures    By  George  Makepeace 

Towle 

78.  Vasco  da  Gama,  His  Voyages  and  Adventures    By  George 

Makepeace   Towle 

79.  The  Heroes  and  Martyrs  of  Invention     By  George  Makepeace 

Towle 

80.  Live  Boys,  or  Charlie  and  Nasho  in  Texas    By  Arthur  More- 

camp 

81.  Live  Boys  in  the  Black  Hills,  or  the  Young  Texas  Gold 

Hunters     By  Arthur  Morecamp 

82.  Down  the  West  Branch,  or  Camps  and  Tramps  around 

Katahdin     By  Capt.  C.  A.  J.  Farrar 

83.  Eastward  Ho!  or  Adventures  at  Rangeley  Lakes    By  Capt. 

C.  A.  J.  Farrar 

84.  Up  the  North  Branch,  A  Summer's  Outing    By  Capt.  C.  A. 

J.  Farrar 

85.  Wild  Woods  Life,  or  a  Trip  to  Parmachenee    By  Capt.  C.  A. 

J.  Farrar 

LEE   AND   SHEPARD    Publishers   BOSTON 


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>rld     By  George 

y  George  Make- 
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es     By  George 
rge  Makepeace 
r  Arthur  More- 
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nps  around 

•es  ByCapt. 
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Y  Capt.  C.  A. 


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